/%<?<?.  * 


Law,  James  D[UfT]  i.  e.  James. 


Revised  and  enlarged  copy  of  Lancaster — old  and  new  ; 
an  address  delivered  before  the  Lancaster  board  of  trade, 
January  9,  1902,  by  James  D.  Law  .  .  .  Lancaster,  Pa., 
Printed  for  the  author,  1902. 

34  p.  24cm. 


Subject  entries :  Lancaster,  Pa. 


2-8106 


Library  of  Congress,  no. 


F159.L2L4.  Copyright. 


TRIALS 

OF 

A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


BY 

'  CAPT.  CHARLES  KING,  U.S.A., 

AUTHOK  OF  “THE  COLONEL'S  DAUGHTER,"  “  MARION’S  FAITH," 
“CAPTAIN  BLAKE,"  ETC. 


PHILADELPHIA : 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY. 

1899. 


Copyright,  1891,  by  L.  R.  Hamersly  &  Co „ 


Printed  by  J.  B.  Lippincott  Company, 


Philadelphia., 


36S,\Z 
K50- 1 


CONTENTS. 


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PAGB 


The  Adjutant .  n 

The  Ordnance  Officer .  34 

At  West  Point .  61 


The  Telephone  as  an  Adjunct  to  the  National  Guard  .  .  113 


Militia  Inspections . 132 

Militia  Camps  of  Instruction . 147 

Sham  Battles . 161 

The  Advantages  of  One’s  Own  Workshop . 1S0 

How  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLETHORP  . 1 98 


■  )  " 

V 

* 


PREFACE. 


Odd  experiences  fall  to  the  lot  of  every  soldier.  Even 
the  subaltern  who  has  spent  the  quarter  of  a  century 
since  the  great  surrender  in  plodding  around  after  a 
platoon — and  such  has  been  the  stagnation  of  promotion 
that  the  case  is  by  no  means  imaginary — can  tell  of 
queer  times  in  the  reconstruction  days;  of  cheerful  badi¬ 
nage  with  mobs  of  women  in  the  Brooklyn  “  Whisky 
War”  when  the  troops  were  sent  down  to  help  the  mar¬ 
shals  break  up  illicit  distilleries ;  of  rural  hospitalities 
as  they  tramped  through  Pennsylvania  during  the  big 
strike  of  ’77;  of  perilous  days  on  the  Indian  frontier; 
even  of  out-of-the-way  sensations  in  out-of-the-way  gar¬ 
risons;  but,  take  it  all  in  all,  a  junior  in  the  line  is  apt 
to  find  life  more  or  less  monotonous.  To  break  this  he 
might  well  be  tempted  to  try  other  duty ;  but  it  is  cer¬ 
tain  that,  were  it  all  to  be  done  over  again  with  the  view 
of  seeking  the  path  wherein  life  might  be  most  placidly 
enjoyed,  nothing  would  tempt  the  present  writer  to  quit 
the  shelter  of  his  tactical  two  yards  from  the  rear  rank 
for  any  staff  position,  unaccompanied  by  rank  and  emol¬ 
ument,  the  army  could  offer.  Indeed,  but  for  certain 
experiences  gained,  characters  encountered,  and  scenes 
visited,  “  Mr.  X.”  would  be  inclined  to  think  he  had  made 
a  big  mistake  in  ever  allowing  himself  to  be  assigned  to 
other  than  troop  duty,  and  nothing  but  the  fact  that  he 
had  been  mercifully  endowed  with  the  faculty  of  seeing 

1*  5 


6 


PREFACE. 


the  humorous  side  of  a  scrape  enabled  him  to  get  through 
some  of  those  hereinafter  referred  to  without  an  attack  of 
nervous  prostration.  That  he  escaped  that  blow  entirely 
is  due  to  the  consummate  good  luck  which  enabled  him 
to  steer  clear  of  the  one  military  maelstrom  which  would 
have  swamped  him  utterly:  He  never  had  to  be  post 
quartermaster;  though  the  mere  fact  of  his  having  been 
ordered  to  temporarily  take  charge  of  the  office  of  a  sick 
comrade  nearly  resulted  in  his  being  proclaimed  a  felon. 

The  trouble  now  is  that,  on  looking  over  these 
sketches, — many  of  them  written  years  ago, — Mr.  X.  is 
confronted  with  the  fact  that  they  fall  far  short  of  making 
those  old-time  “  Trials”  half  as  whimsical  as  they  seem 
to  him.  With  the  best  intentions  in  the  world,  and  a 
readiness  to  undertake  any  duty  or  responsibility  his 
superiors  might  unload  on  him,  it  must  be  seen  that  his 
capacity  for  getting  into  snarls  and  tangles  was  simply 
illimitable.  The  smallest  item  of  rashness  was  cock¬ 
sure  to  develop  into  a  mammoth  of  consequences  when 
least  expected.  Who  could  have  predicted  that,  when 
the  judge-advocate  of  the  court  signed  the  memorandum 
receipt  for  stationery  handed  him  by  the  quartermaster’s 
clerk  at  Jackson  Barracks  in  ’72,  he  was  bringing  upon 
himself  a  direful  communication  to  reach  him  two  years 
later  when  he  lay  wounded  and  helpless  in  far-away  Ari¬ 
zona,  and  to  say  that  his  pay  would  be  stopped  if  he  did 
not  immediately  proceed  to  account  for  the  following 
quartermaster’s  property,  for  which  he  was  responsible, 
— to  wit : 

One  Inkstand. 

Mr.  X.  remembered  that  inkstand  well.  He  had  been 
the  aide-de-camp  who  overhauled  some  of  the  bids  for 


PREFACE. 


7 


stationery,  and  this  particular  inkstand  was  a  blown-glass 
affair,  about  one  inch  in  height,  one  and  one-half  inches 
across  the  base,  and  of  a  capacity  of  perhaps  one-quarter 
thimble.  They  were  furnished  at  a  price  of  something 
in  the  neighborhood  of  six  cents  a  gross,  and  were  such 
a  nuisance  that  the  post  quartermaster  had  determined 
to  get  rid  of  them  at  all  hazards.  So  he  unloaded  one 
or  more  on  every  board  or  court  that  met  at  the  barracks, 
and  dropped  the  same  number  from  his  papers.  Here, 
of  course,  is  where  the  trouble  comes  in.  One  can  “  ex¬ 
pend”  pens,  ink,  paper,  etc.,  but  cannot  so  get  rid  of  what 
is  only  an  inkstand  in  name.  That  must  be  taken  up  on 
regular  papers  and  accounted  for  monthly, — at  least  it 
had  to  be  in  *72-7 4.  The  fact  that  this  particular  ink- 
stand  was  expended  before  the  court  was  sworn — at  the 
expense  of  a  vagrant  cat  on  a  neighboring  wall — has  no 
bearing  on  the  case.  Mr.  X.  never  thought  of  the  brittle 
little  box  as  a  factor  of  possible  magnitude  in  his  future, 
but  it  seems  the  Quartermaster’s  Department  at  Wash¬ 
ington  got  riled  at  him  for,  not  making  out  a  dollar’s 
worth  of  papers  for  a  mill’s  worth  of  goods, — thought 
him  recalcitrant  when  he  wasn’t  thinking  of  that  business 
at  all,  but  chasing  Apaches  for  all  he  was  worth,  and  so 
in  his  hour  of  need  the  blow  fell.  Fortunately  there 
was  a  department  commander  to  interpose  betwixt  him 
and  the  deluge. 

And  then,  talking  of  department  commanders,  who 
would  have  supposed  that,  when  the  genial  and  kindly 
chief  of  the  Missouri,  one  stormy  March  morning  in  ’76, 
absolutely  forbade  Mr.  X.’s  attempting  to  proceed  from 
head-quarters  to  a  Western  post  with  his  wife  and  child, 
and  declared,  “Never  mind  your  leave  expiring  to- 


8 


PREFACE. 


morrow ;  we’ll  fix  that  here,”  that  Mr.  X.  was  piling  up 
trouble  again?  We  got  to  Riley  a  day  late.  Four 
months  afterwards,  X.  and  his  regiment — cut  off  from 
all  communication — were  far  up  on  the  Rosebud,  in 
Montana.  For  two  weeks  he  had  had  no  news  from  the 
dear  ones  at  the  distant  Kansas  post :  the  last  news  was 
bad.  His  heart  was  full  of  anxiety,  yet  leaped  with 
eagerness  when  the  word  was  passed  that  Jack  Crawford, 
“  the  Poet  Scout,”  had  made  a  daring  ride  of  it  all  by 
himself,  had  come  out  from  Fetterman  to  join  our  scouts, 
and  had  brought  the  mail.  “  Anything  for  me,  Jack  ?” 
pleaded  X.,  breaking  in  upon  the  group  of  letter-reading 
officers.  “Yes!  One  !”  An  official  letter,  big  and  por¬ 
tentous.  An  announcement  that,  for  absence  without 
leave  for  one  day,  Mr.  X.’s  pay  would  be  stopped  accord¬ 
ingly.  Only  this  and  nothing  more.  No  telegram,  no 
backward  mail, — no  consideration  for  the  fellows  cut  off 
in  the  Indian  country.  Nothing  to  do  but  grin  and  bear 
it,  and  swear  until  the  campaign  was  well-nigh  over. 

Then  X.  got  reported  absent  without  leave,  and  had  his 
pay  stopped  while  actually  traveling  on  duty  with  the 
general  to  whom  he  had  been  assigned  as  aide-de-camp. 
He  had  to  go  down  in  his  pockets  and  pay  for  a  raft  of 
signal  property  he  had  never  seen  nor  heard  of,  because 
he  was  ass  enough  to  receipt  to  a  fellow  up  in  the  Black 
Hills,  who  subsequently  wrote  that  the  names  given  some 
of  the  items  were  wrong,  and  he  begged  to  submit  the 
proper  names.  X.  took  up  the  “  proper  .names”  on  his 
papers,  and  confidingly  wrote  to  the  chief  signal  officer  of 
the  mistake  and  said  he  would  drop  the  old  names  from 
his  return.  The  chief  signal  officer  (as  represented  by  the 
lamented  Howgate)  responded  forthwith  that  there  could 


PREFACE. 


9 


be  no  possible  objection  to  Mr.  X.’s  taking  up  the  new 
names ;  indeed,  he  would  be  expected  to ;  but  as  to  drop¬ 
ping  the  old  ones,  he  would  do  nothing  of  the  kind — nor 
did  he — until  paid  for. 

And  then  there  was  that  matter  of -  But  here! 

The  next  thing  Mr.  X.  knows  he  will  be  telling  what  is 
is  in  the  pages  that  follow,  to  which  the  soldier  reader — 
no  one  else  could  wade  through  them — is  respectfully 
referred. 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


THE  ADJUTANT. 

Just  when  our  staff  duties  began  is  perhaps  a  mat¬ 
ter  of  no  importance.  Major  Sanger’s  comprehensive 
essay  on  “  The  Duties  of  Staff-Officers”  had  not  then 
been  written,  but  we  had  known  that  accomplished 
officer  when  he  himself  was  adjutant,  and  had  unhesi¬ 
tatingly  adopted  his  system  as  one  worthy  of  imitation. 
That  was  a  great  many  years  ago ;  orders,  regulations, 
customs  of  service,  and  the  tactics  of  the  three  arms 
have  undergone  important  changes;  but  so  long  as 
human  nature  remains  as  it  is  and  has  been  since  crea¬ 
tion,  so  long  will  there  be  mistakes  in  the  best-regulated 
families  and  stumbling-blocks  for  the  most  level-headed 
officials,  civil  or  military. 

In  the  course  of  ten  years  it  was  our  luck  to  encounter 
experiences  varied  if  not  valuable.  We  had  been  adju¬ 
tant  for  a  dozen  different  C.  O.’s  in  every  section  of  the 
country;  aide-de-camp  to  more  than  one  pair  of  stars; 
had  acted  as  head  of  all  kinds  of  bureaus,  as  adjutant 
and  inspector-general,  engineer,  judge-advocate,  military 
secretary,  ordnance  and  signal  officer,  quartermaster, 
commissary,  even  as  chaplain  and  surgeon,  and  with  the 
profound  conviction  that  our  own  shortcomings  were 
many,  there  is  grafted  in  our  inner  consciousness  the  be¬ 
lief  that  were  a  man  possessed  of  the  energy  and  snap 


12 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


of  Sanger  himself,  the  “  paper  knowledge”  of  Leonard 
Hay,  the  legal  acumen  of  Gardner,  the  patience  of  Wil¬ 
helm,  the  reticence  of  Horace  Porter,  the  energy  of 
Nickerson,  the  courtesy  of  Audenreid,  the  buried  pen 
of  “  Perfect”  Bliss,  and  the  imperturbability  of  “  Bob” 
Williams,  yet  would  he  find  at  some  time  or  other  a  com¬ 
bination  of  circumstances  against  which  no  experience 
could  make  him  armor-proof,  and  of  which  the  linesman 
pur  et  simple  has  no  conception  whatsoever. 

We  all  know  what  the  adjutant  should  be, — a  soldier 
in  everything,  in  carriage,  form,  voice,  and  manner,  the 
soul  of  parade  and  guard-mounting,  the  reliable  authority 
on  tactics  and  regulations,  the  patient  student  of  general 
orders,  the  rigid  scrutinizer  of  returns  and  rolls,  the 
scholarly  man  of  the  subalterns,  the  faithful  adherent 
and  executive  in  spirit  and  in  letter  of  the  commanding 
officer.  We  all  know  how  easy  it  is  to  formulate  rules 
and  regulations  for  his  guidance  on  all  matters  of  duty 
and  routine  in  garrison, — we  all  know  just  what  day  the 
regimental  return  should  reach  Washington,  the  post 
return  department  head-quarters,  the  company  papers  the 
adjutant’s  office,  but  until  we  have  tried  to  “run”  the 
head-quarters  of  a  frontier  post  and  of  a  cavalry  regiment 
in  the  heart  of  the  Indian  country,  and  the  height  of 
Indian  campaigning,  we  have  not,  and  Sanger  had  not, 
the  faintest  conception  of  the  trials  of  staff-officers  as 
exemplified  in  the  case  of  the  adjutant. 

Fancy,  if  you  can,  a  regiment  situated  just  as  we  were 
on  the  ist  day  of  June,  187-.  Six  of  the  twelve  compa¬ 
nies  scouting  about  on  the  Southern  plains,  the  other  six 
waiting  for  their  turn,  the  colonel  and  adjutant  off  on 
leave,  the  lieutenant-colonel  and  quartermaster  “  running 


THE  ADJUTANT. 


13 


the  regiment,”  and  all  of  a  sudden  a  big  Indian  war 
breaks  out  far  to  the  north,  and  head-quarters  with  ten 
companies  are  hurried  off  to  re-enforce  another  depart¬ 
ment,  and  from  that  day  to  the  15th  of  November  not  a 
glimpse  do  we  catch  of  desks  or  papers.  Colonel,  adju¬ 
tant,  and  everybody  is  in  the  field  in  active  pursuit  of  a 
still  more  active  foe,  and  not  a  return  has  been  made  in 
all  those  months.  Winter  setting  in,  we  are  ordered  to 
a  post  near  the  railway,  and  the  colonel  hands  the  adju¬ 
tant  a  bundle  of  letters,  all  harping  upon  the  same  string. 
The  adjutant-general  of  the  army  informs  the  com¬ 
manding  officer,  in  the  final  communication  of  his  series, 
that  the  returns  of  the  regiment  for  the  months  of  May, 
June,  July,  August,  September,  etc.,  have  not  been  re¬ 
ceived.  “Your  attention  has  been  repeatedly  called  to 
the  neglect,”  etc.  (We  got  them  in  a  bunch  at  the  end 
of  the  campaign,  but,  being  happily  cut  off  from  all  mail 
communication  during  the  summer,  were  spared  the  con¬ 
secutive  infliction  of  letter  after  letter  at  the  time.)  “  You 
will  at  once  render  the  required  returns,  with  such  expla¬ 
nation  as  you  may  be  able  to  give,”  etc.  And  with  the 
official  expression  of  the  proper  amount  of  astonishment 
and  indignation  at  such  apparent  disregard  of  instruc¬ 
tions,  the  adjutant-general  winds  up  with  the  customary 
information  that  he  is  the  obedient  servant  of  the  colonel 
whom  he  has  been  flagellating. 

Opening  the  next  series,  we  find  a  similar  array  of 
monthly  remonstrances  from  the  adjutant-general  of 
the  department  from  which  we  were  sent  in  June.  “  For 

temporary  service  in  the  Department  of  the - ”  was 

the  language  of  the  order  by  which  we  were  hurried 
away,  and  though  every  vestige  of  the  regiment  is  now 


14 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


far  removed  from  his  jurisdiction,  the  commanding  offi¬ 
cer  of  our  former  field  is  jealously  tenacious  of  his  rights 
over  us,  and  he  too  demands  reports  and  returns,  ex¬ 
presses  his  censure  of  our  negligence  in  fitting  terms, 
and,  being  debarred  from  remonstrating  with  our  new 
department  commander  for  our  illegal  detention,  now 
that  the  war  is  over,  takes  it  out  in  rasping  our  colonel. 

Then  the  adjutant-general  of  the  Department  of  the 
- ,  whom  we  have  been  “  re-enforcing/’  takes  his  in¬ 
nings,  and  though  one  would  suppose  that  his  knowledge 
of  our  long  isolation  among  the  hostiles  and  separation 
from  all  baggage  would  prompt  him  to  consideration,  he 
bowls  us  over  as  remorselessly  as  the  others. 

Finally,  the  adjutant-general  of  the  division  delivers 
his  fire,  and  to  all  appearances  it  would  seem  as  though 
not  the  faintest  realization  of  our  actual  condition  had 
been  vouchsafed  to  any  one  of  these  amiable  autocrats, 
but  that  from  the  hazy  distance  of  Washington  or  Chi¬ 
cago,  through  fragrant  clouds  of  Havana  smoke,  from 
the  sitting-point  of  easy  office-chairs,  those  gentlemen, 
gazing  dreamily  over  roof  and  spire,  beheld  us  in  unin¬ 
terrupted  possession  of  our  desks  and  retained  papers, 
and  with  certainly  nothing  better  to  do  than  make  out 
new  ones.  We  haven’t  had  time  to  unpack  an  inkstand ; 
the  mud  of  the  Yellowstone  is  clinging  to  our  horses* 
fetlocks ;  but  the  colonel  unloads  a  trunkful  of  papers, 
and,  with  a  brisk,  “  There,  Mr.  X.,  get  all  this  straightened 
out  as  quick  as  possible,”  goes  off  to  set  his  own  house 
in  order,  and  when  he  reappears  it  is  with  a  draft  of  an 
order  showing  what  he  means  to  do  towards  straighten 
ing  out  the  regiment.  There  is  no  question  but  that  it 
needs  it.  For  years  past  it  has  been  little  else  than  an 


THE  ADJUTANT. 


IS 


agglomeration  of  companies ;  every  captain  has  run  his 
machine  to  suit  himself;  no  two  company  commanders 
adopted  the  same  system ;  drills,  except  by  company 
mounted,  were  unknown ;  and  of  the  forms  of  parade, 
the  intricacies  of  battalion  movements,  the  nicer  “  points” 
of  sentinel  duty,  the  command  was  in  absolute  ignorance. 
Four  hundred  recruits  had  joined,  and  the  confusion  was 
chaotic ;  but  we  had  a  new  colonel,  he  had  a  new  adjutant, 
both  meant  business,  and  the  grind  began. 

Reveille,  5.30  a.m.  Breakfast  immediately  after.  Stables, 
6  a.m.  Sick-call  and  fatigue,  7.30.  Boots  and  saddles  for 
morning  parade,  8  a.m.  (mounted  and  in  full  dress). 
Adjutant’s  call,  8.20.  Guard-mounting  (mounted)  imme¬ 
diately  after  parade.  Drill-call  (battalion  drill,  mounted), 
IO.15.  Recall,  11.45.  Dinner,  12  M.  Squad  drill  of 
recruits,  1.15  to  2.15  p.m.  Company  drill  (dismounted), 
2.30  to  3.30  p.m.  Stables,  4  to  5.15.  Retreat  and  evening 
dress-parade  (dismounted),  sunset.  Recitations  of  officers, 
Monday  evening;  of  non-commissioned  officers,  Tues¬ 
days  and  Fridays.  Tattoo,  9  p.m. 

Now,  the  colonel  meant  to  have  things  vigorously  car¬ 
ried  out,  and  started  in  himself  by  receiving  the  reveille 
reports  in  person,  one  officer  superintending  the  roll-call 
of  each  company,  and  the  adjutant  that  of  the  band 
and  non-commissioned  staff.  Then  everybody — colonel, 
major,  adjutant,  quartermaster,  and  band — went  to  stables 
morning  and  evening ;  and  it  may  be  stated  that  there 
was  some  growling  among  the  company  officers  at  least, 
arising  from  the  fact  that  their  unoccupied  hours  were 
few.  But  we  are  portraying  experiences  in  the  adjutant’s 
duties  merely,  and  therefore  return  to  him. 

The  duties  of  this  functionary  outside  of  his  office 


1 6 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


began  at  first  call  for  reveille,  when  he  sleepily  arose 
and  arrayed  himself  in  stable-dress;  made  his  way 
through  the  darkness  to  the  band-quarters,  some  four 
hundred  yards  away ;  watched  the  roll-call  of  his  “  wind¬ 
jammers  then  hunted  up  the  colonel  on  parade,  reported 
to  him,  and  between  reveille  and  stables  had  time  to 
swallow  a  cup  of  coffee,  and  then  see  to  it  that  the 
orderly  trumpeter  sounded  stable-call  sharp  on  time.  It 
happened  once  or  twice  that  those  graceless  young  imps, 
the  regimental  trumpeters,  would  delay  the  call  to  give 
the  men  or  themselves  more  time  at  breakfast,  and  the 
colonel  ruled  that  the  adjutant  was  responsible.  Some¬ 
body  had  to  be,  and  why  not  the  adjutant  ? 

From  his  office  then  the  adjutant  tramped  down  to  the 
stables  in  the  creek  valley,  six  hundred  yards  away,  and 
gave  his  attention  to  the  grooming  of  his  thirty-odd 
elderly  grays,  the  “  mount”  of  the  musicians  and  non-com¬ 
missioned  staff,  and  on  completion  of  this  duty  he  returned 
to  the  office  in  time  to  see  sick-call  sounded,  start  the 
clerks  at  their  work,  then  hurry  to  his  quarters  for  the 
change  from  his  strongly-scented  stable-rig  to  bath,  then 
full-dress  uniform,  and  his  own  breakfast  before  the  sound 
of  “  boots  and  saddles”  at  eight  should  summon  him  to 
the  saddle.  Morning  parade  over,  all  other  officers  except 
the  old  and  new  officers  of  the  day  had  time  to  get  home 
and  throw  off  helmet  and  double-breasted  coats;  the 
adjutant,  however,  had  to  hold  on  for  a  long  guard¬ 
mounting  and  a  passage  in  review  at  walk  and  trot  before 
he  could  do  likewise.  It  was  generally  9.15  to  9.30 
before  ceremonies  were  over ;  then  he  had  barely  time  to 
change  to  “undress,”  rush  to  the  office,  and  find  his  desk 
loaded  down  with  papers  of  every  kind,  when  drill-call 


THE  ADJUTANT. 


17 


would  sound,  and  from  then  until  noon  he  and  his  horse 
would  be  in  a  lather  in  the  rapid  movements  required  of 
them  at  battalion  drill.  From  1  to  2  he,  with  most  of 
the  other  officers,  had  to  attend  recruit  drill ;  and,  pro¬ 
vided  he  was  willing  to  give  up  all  idea  of  lunch  or  din¬ 
ner,  the  hours  unoccupied  by  out-door  duties  in  which  he 
could  hope  to  straighten  out  those  papers  were  from  2  to 
4  p.m.,  at  which  latter  hour  he  was  again  summoned  to 
stable. 

With  seven  months’  returns  of  every  kind  in  arrears, 
with  his  desk  littered  with  the  routine  papers  of  the  day, 
with  more  than  two  hours’  work  in  getting  the  morning 
reports,  sick  reports,  ration  returns,  and  requisitions  for 
forage,  straw,  salt,  etc.,  to  fit  into  one  another;  with  all 
the  passes,  applications  for  boards  of  survey,  extra  duty 
men,  hospital  cooks  and  attendants,  fatigue  details,  letters 
to  officers  requiring  explanation  why,  etc.,  endorsements 
on  a  hundred  different  papers,  company  returns  to  be 
scrutinized,  colonel’s  letters  to  head-quarters  of  the  de¬ 
partment,  and  the  adjutant-general’s  orders,  details, 
countersigns,  etc.,  etc.,  the  adjutant  had  far  more  than 
enough  to  fill  every  moment  of  those  two  hours  without 
that  hideous  incubus  of  seven  months’  papers  in  arrears. 
The  first  thing  that  occurred  to  him  was  to  ask  the  colonel 
for  more  clerks, — he  only  had  three ;  the  last  thing  that 
occurred  to  him  was  to  ask  the  colonel  for  more  time. 
If  the  truth  be  told,  the  adjutant  was  as  intent  on  the 
“  setting  up”  of  the  six  companies  on  duty  at  head¬ 
quarters  as  was  the  colonel  himself,  and  thought  papers 
a  somewhat  secondary  consideration  to  getting  the  men 
(and  officers)  up  to  a  thorough  tactical  proficiency  ;  he 

did  not  want  to  be  excused  from  a  single  military  duty. 
b  2* 


1 8  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

It  was  gall  and  wormwood  to  his  soul  to  mark  the 
slouchy  carriage  of  the  men,  their  clumsy  salute,  and 
the  utter  lack  of  steadiness  in  their  ranks.  It  was  ex¬ 
asperating  to  see  the  blunders  of  the  non-commissioned 
officers  for  the  first  week  of  guard-mounting,  and  with 
all  his  might  he  started  in  to  straighten  things  out.  His 
theory  was,  that  in  order  to  get  the  men  up  to  the  stand¬ 
ard  the  non-commissioned  officers  must  be  thoroughly 
instructed,  but  the  colonel  held  the  captains  responsible 
for  this,  and,  as  bad  luck  would  have  it,  every  captain 
had  individual  ideas  of  his  own  to  instil  into  the  minds 
of  his  sergeants,  as  a  consequence  of  which  six  totally 
different  systems  prevailed ;  each  captain  thought  his  the 
best,  and  was  fiercely  jealous  of  anything  that  savored 
of  interference. 

The  colonel  required  weekly  reports  from  his  company 
commanders  of  the  proficiency  of  their  non-commis¬ 
sioned  officers,  and  established  a  system  of  marks  by 
which  he  could  judge  of  their  relative  merit.  This 
seemed  all  right  to  the  one  West  Pointer  among  the  cap¬ 
tains,  was  looked  upon  as  a  nuisance  by  some  of  the 
others,  and  absolutely  denounced  by  one  of  the  very  best 
company  commanders  in  the  regiment,  on  the  ground 
that  “  it  reflected  on  the  intelligence  and  faithfulness  of 
the  captain  to  require  a  report  from  him.”  It  was  simply 
marvelous  to  see  into  how  many  meanings  the  simple 
language  of  the  tactics  could  be  distorted,  and  how  ob¬ 
stinately  the  adherent  of  each  particular  interpretation 
maintained  the  correctness  of  his  theory.  The  recita¬ 
tions  of  the  officers  to  the  colonel  had  developed  the 
fact  that,  as  a  rule,  the  higher  the  rank  the  less  the 
knowledge  of  the  subject;  but  then,  as  Captain  Canker 


THE  ADJUTANT. 


19 


remarked,  “  These  West  Pointers  retain  their  school-boy 
habits,  while  we  men  who  were  educated  in  the  school 
of  war  itself  are  not  accustomed  to  this  sort  of  nursery 
talk.”  And,  as  for  the  men,  it  may  be  said  that  in  the 
saddle  they  didn’t  do  badly,  but  when  it  came  to  foot- 

parades,  guard-mounts  and  the  like,  “  It  was  d - d 

dough-boy  work,  and  they  hadn’t  ’listed  in  the  cavalry 
for  such.”  However,  the  colonel  was  bound  to  have 
dismounted  parades,  and  the  adjutant  was  bound  to  help 
him.  It  was  ordered  that  for  dismounted  duty  the  sabre 
should  not  be  worn,  and  the  command  should  appear 
armed  with  the  carbine  alone. 

The  first  evening  dress-parade  was  as  chock-full  of 
errors  as  it  could  well  be.  Nothing  could  induce  the 
guides  to  quit  their  positions  in  ranks  and  come  out  on 
the  line.  Captains  Canker  and  Curbit  in  the  right  wing 
looked  daggers  at  the  adjutant  (who  finally  had  to  drag 
the  bewildered  first  sergeants  where  they  belonged),  then 
dressed  their  companies  to  the  wrong  flank.  Captain 
Munger  faced  along  the  line  instead  of  to  the  front  as  he 
aligned  his  men  (and  never  could  be  brought  to  do  it 
any  other  way  afterwards),  and  Captain  Snaffle  savagely 
ordered  a  marker  to  “  get  out  of  the  way  of  his  com¬ 
pany,”  to  the  great  perplexity  of  that  functionary,  who 
had  been  ordered  by  the  adjutant  not  to  budge  until 
the  command  “  guides  posts  !”  In  opening  ranks,  Cap¬ 
tain  Canker,  whose  company  was  on  the  extreme  right, 
almost  refused  to  dress  up  on  line  with  his  lieutenant, 
who  commanded  the  first  platoon,  and  was  heard  ex¬ 
pressing  deep  indignation  at  the  idea  of  a  lieutenant, 
if  he  was  adjutant,  being  permitted  to  give  orders  on 
parade  to  his  superior  officers.  The  “  present  arms” 


20 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


was  fair,  except  that  only  half  the  officers  (the  younger 
half)  executed  the  first  motion  at  the  command,  “  Pre¬ 
sent!”  The  manual  was  worried  through  after  a  fashion, 
and  then  the  adjutant  came  marching  in  to  receive 
the  reports.  As  he  glanced  along  the  line  to  see 
what  the  first  sergeants  looked  like,  he  was  struck  by 
the  variety.  The  first  sergeant  of  the  first  company, 
armed  with  the  carbine,  was  standing  at  an  order  on  the 
extreme  right ;  the  second  company’s  sergeant,  armed 
with  a  sabre,  was  standing  at  a  carry;  the  third  com¬ 
pany’s  sergeant  was  resting  the  point  of  his  sabre  on  the 
ground,  like  the  officers ;  fourth  company,  sabre  at  a 
carry ;  fifth  company,  sabre  point  down ;  sixth  company, 
sabre  point  up.  The  adjutant  made  mental  note  of  it 
and  of  the  intricacies  that  followed.  At  the  command 
“ First  sergeants  /”  one  of  the  down-pointed  sabres  came 
up,  but  the  others  and  the  carbine  on  the  right  remained 
immovable.  At  “To  the  front  and  centre /”  five  of  the 
sergeants  stepped  to  the  front,  some  one,  some  two  yards, 
but  the  man  on  the  right  held  his  ground.  In  response 
to  a  sharp  “  What  are  you  waiting  for,  sergeant  of  first 
company?”  from  the  adjutant,  he  shambled  out  (and  sub¬ 
sequently  explained  that  he  was  waiting  for  the  com¬ 
mand  “  March  !”),  but  so  perturbed  in  spirit  that  he  forgot 
the  result  of  the  company  roll-call.  At  “Report!"  the 
six  officials  expressed  themselves  as  follows : 

“  Company  *  O,’  present  or  accounted  for,  Sir." 

“  Company  ‘  R,’  all  present  or  accounted  for.” 

“  ‘  T’  company,  present  or  accounted  for,  Sir." 

“  ‘  U’  company,  all  present,  Sir." 

“Sir  !  two  privates  are  absent.” 

“  ‘  X’  company,  all  are  present,  sir.” 


THE  ADJUTANT. 


21 


Not  one  of  them  had  hit  on  the  right  form. 

At  “  First  sergeants  to  your  posts  /”  every  blessed  one 
of  those  sergeants  faced  outwards,  and  when  they  finally 
retook  their  positions  in  line  two  of  them  did  so  by  turn¬ 
ing  round  and  backing  into  position,  one  by  facing  to 
the  left  about,  and  only  two  by  marching  through  their 
interval  to  the  required  yard  and  then  executing  the 
about  face. 

And  yet  that  night,  when  the  colonel  announced  at 
officers’  recitation  that  the  adjutant  had  criticisms  to 
make  at  the  expense  of  all  the  first  sergeants,  four  of  the 
captains  were  ready  to  bet  that  theirs  had  made  no  mis¬ 
take,  and  the  junior  captain  announced  that  he  had  spent 
an  hour  instructing  his  sergeant  that  day,  and  knew  his 
couldn’t  have  gone  wrong. 

The  adjutant,  being  given  the  floor,  proceeded  to  state 
his  case,  but  it  was  a  characteristic  of  officers’  recitation 
in  the  — th  that  no  man  was  allowed  to  express  his  views 
uninterrupted.  There  were  always  six  or  eight  who  burst 
into  the  most  carefully-prepared  opinion  and  complicated 
affairs  to  the  uttermost ;  consequently,  long  before  the 
discussion  which  ensued  on  the  very  first  issue  was 
half  over,  tattoo  sounded  and  the  convention  adjourned 
without  decision,  but  the  adjutant’s  “points”  were 
these : 

1st.  The  men  being  armed  with  the  carbine,  the  first 
sergeants  should  have  been  similarly  equipped.  The 
tactics  clearly  indicate  such  intention  in  paragraph  1129 
(dress-parade,  dismounted).  Here  the  captains  to  a  man 
opposed  him.  No  cavalry  first  sergeant  was  ever  intended 
to  carry  a  carbine,  and  the  eventual  decision  of  the  colonel 
sustained  the  captains.  In  all  subsequent  parades  of  the 


22 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


— th  the  first  sergeants  marched  with  drawn  sabre  on  the 
right  of  a  line  of  carbines.* 

2d.  No  first  sergeant  should  drop  the  point  of  his  sabre 
at  “ Order  arms!"  only  officers  and  non-commissioned 
staff-officers  being  mentioned  in  paragraph  1075. 

3d.  At  “  To  the  front  and  centre  /”  all  first  sergeants 
should  step  two  yards  to  front  and  face  to  centre. 

4th.  At  “Report!"  nothing  but  the  language  of  the  tac¬ 
tics,  and  exactly  that,  should  be  employed,  as,  for  instance : 

“  Company  i  A'  present,  or  accounted  for.”  Or, 

“  Company  ‘  A*  two  privates  absent.” 

(“Well,  that’s  just  what  Sergeants  Finnegan,  Bran- 
nigan,  O’Grady,  etc.,  said,”  was  here  heard  from  several 
company  commanders.) 

5  th.  At  “  To  your  posts  /”  not  a  man  should  stir,  but  wait 
for  “  March  /”  before  facing  outwards.  Captains  Curbit 
and  Munger  thought  such  tactics  simply  ridiculous.  If 
the  sergeants  were  not  to  move  until  “ March  /”  returning 
to  their  posts,  they  should  not  budge  until  “ March  /” 
when  coming  to  the  front  and  centre.  The  adjutant 
retorted  with  some  asperity  that  he  was  not  there  to 
defend  the  tactics, — no  man  suffered  more  on  their 
account  than  he  did, — but  he  proposed  to  carry  them  out 
to  the  letter,  whether  nonsensical  or  not.  Here  Captain 
Snaffle  sailed  into  the  adjutant  with,  “  You  talk  about 
sticking  to  tactics,  and  yesterday  morning,  by  Jinks  !  you 
*  mounted’  my  best  sergeant  for  not  facing  his  platoon 
when  wheeling  marching  in  review  at  guard-mounting !” 

“  Of  course  I  did,”  says  the  adjutant.  “  We’ve  ham¬ 
mered  that  point  flat  long  ago.  Look  at  paragraph  278, 
4  Cavalry  Tactics.’  ” 


*  Eventually  changed  “  by  order.” 


THE  ADJUTANT. 


23 


“  I  don’t  care,”  says  Snaffle.  “  General  Coach  decided 
that  sergeants  should  not  face  their  platoons,  and  they 
were  all  drilled  so  until  you  became  adjutant.” 

“  True  enough ;  but  the  colonel,  not  the  lieutenant- 
colonel,  commands  us  now,  and  that  isn’t  the  only  point 
changed  by  the  pageful.” 

Then  another  captain  concludes  it  time  to  give  his  dig. 
He  and  the  adjutant  have  been  pretty  close  friends,  but 
it  is  a  case  of  company  commanders  vs.  the  staff,  and 
though  in  his  innermost  heart  he  agrees  with  the  latter  on 
all  points  thus  far,  he  sees  that  the  adjutant  stands  alone, 
and  so  has  the  political  sense  to  join  the  heavy  majority. 

“  Well,  Pll  tell  you  what  you  do  in  violation  of  tactics 
X. :  you  march  the  guard  in  review  at  undress  guard¬ 
mounting.” 

(Chorus  of  captains :  "  Yes,  I  was  just  going  to  speak 
of  that,”  etc.) 

To  which  the  sorely-assailed  exponent  of  the  modern 
customs  of  service  responds  that  in  the  first  place  the 
adjutant  is  apt  to  do  pretty  much  as  the  officer  of  the  day 
directs  in  the  matter  of  marching  in  review,  but,  to  come 
down  to  a  matter  of  fact,  there  had  not  been  an  undress 
guard-mounting  since  their  arrival. 

“  Mr.  X.,”  says  the  captain,  oracularly,  “  it  has  been 
undress  guard-mounting  every  day  this  week.” 

The  adjutant  begins  to  see  the  drift  of  his  argument, 
so  he  questions, — 

“  The  weather  has  been  bright  and  clear,  has  it  not  ?” 

“  Granted.” 

“  We  have  had  the  band  out  every  day,  and  it  has 
played  for  everything,  including  a  long  inspection  and 
*  troop,’  has  it  not  ?” 


24 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


“  Very  true.” 

“  The  officer  of  the  day  directed  the  guard  to  be  marched 
in  review,  didn’t  he  ?” 

“  Probably.” 

“Then  how  was  it  undress  guard-mounting,  and  why 
shouldn’t  we  march  in  review?” 

“  Because  the  men  wore  overcoats  /” 

Somehow  or  other  in  the  dead  silence  that  follows  this 
announcement  the  captain  becomes  conscious  of  the  fact 
that  the  donning  of  a  winter  uniform  in  these  high  lati¬ 
tudes  does  not  necessarily  prohibit  the  observance  of  the 
forms  and  ceremonies  included  in  the  tactics,  and  adds, — 

“  At  least,  that’s  always  been  my  idea  of  undress 
guard-mounting.” 

But  the  snickering  of  some  of  the  juniors  and  the 
ominous  silence  of  his  adherents  of  the  moment  before 
induce  the  captain  to  believe  he  had  put  his  foot  in  it. 

Finally,  it  was  decided  by  the  colonel  that  in  order  to 
insure  a  thorough  and  uniform  system  of  instruction  of 
the  non-commissioned  officers  on  all  “  points”  in  the  cere¬ 
monies,  duties  of  guards,  sentinels,  and  the  like,  the  non¬ 
commissioned  officers  of  the  garrison  should  assemble 
one  night  a  week  and  be  “  lectured”  by  the  adjutant,  who 
would  decide  all  questions  on  which  there  might  be  a 
variance  of  opinion  and  instruction  among  the  men. 
This  proved  a  success.  Within  a  fortnight  the  parades 
and  guard-mountings,  so  far  as  the  sergeants  and  cor¬ 
porals  were  concerned,  went  off  without  a  flaw.  It  is 
true  that  there  was  deep-rooted  and  openly-expressed 
objection  on  the  part  of  several  of  the  company  com¬ 
manders,  who  appeared  to  regard  their  sergeants  as  a 
species  of  personal  property  over  whom  no  one  else 


TIIE  ADJUTANT. 


25 


ought  to  have  any  jurisdiction  ;  and  some  of  them  went 
so  far  as  to  declare  that  they  could  have  nothing  more  to 
do  with  the  recitations  of  their  men  if  such  interference 
was  to  be  tolerated ;  but  one  of  the  most  uncompro¬ 
misingly  jealous  of  these  gentlemen,  having  availed 
himself  of  the  colonel’s  hint  that  he  would  be  glad  to 
have  any  of  the  officers  visit  the  adjutant’s  school,  and 
having  sat  a  silent  but  deeply-interested  listener  to  all 
that  transpired  through  two  evenings,  fairly  took  the 
adjutant’s  breath  away  by  accosting  him  with — 

“  I’ve  been  a  determined  opposer  of  yours,  X.,  in  all 
this  matter,  but  I  say  to  you  that  this  ends  my  last  ob¬ 
jection.  It’s  a  capital  thing,  and  I  shall  take  occasion 
to  say  to  every  other  company  commander  what  I  think 
of  it.” 

And  he  did,  and,  whether  owing  to  this  fact  or  not, 
things  began  to  work  smoothly.  There  was  always  a 
crowd  to  see  guard-mounting,  and  eager,  critical  eyes  to 
watch  those  six  details  as  they  came  dancing  out  in 
double  time.  The  utmost  pride  began  to  be  manifested 
by  the  non-commissioned  officers  in  the  sharp,  soldierly 
style  in  which  the  ceremony  was  conducted,  and  from 
the  moment  the  call  sounded  to  the  last  notes  of  the 
band  after  marching  in  review  the  strongest  rivalry  was 
visible  between  the  companies,  and  almost  every  bright 
morning  the  chevron-wearers  of  the  garrison,  to  a  man, 
could  be  seen  grouped  about  the  barrack  side  of  the 
parade  closely  watching  every  move  and  fiercely  anathe¬ 
matizing  the  faintest  display  of  awkwardness  on  the  part 
of  their  comrades. 

Finally,  our  guard-mounting  began  to  be  a  source  of 
pride  to  everybody,  and  visiting  officers  were  always 
b  3 


26 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


hauled  out  to  see  it.  Occasionally  there  would  be  some 
“  soi-disant ”  authority  on  tactics  from  another  post  who 
had  to  have  his  say  if  he  belonged  to  the  regiment ;  and 
as  the  adjutant  never  had  an  instant  of  time  to  devote  to 
discussion,  he  generally  succeeded  in  impressing  every¬ 
body  with  the  idea  that  he  was  an  ill-tempered  brute  at 
best. 

“  Say,  X.,”  said  one  of  these  gentry  one  bright  morning 
as  the  adjutant  was  hurrying  through  the  knot  of  offi¬ 
cers  always  grouped  about  the  office  after  guard-mount¬ 
ing,  “  hold  on  a  moment ;  I  want  to  ask  you  something. 
Won’t  detain  you  a  minute.” 

“  Blaze  away,  then,  captain  ;  I  have  no  spare  time.” 

“  Well,”  and  here  the  critic  threw  open  his  blouse, 
inserted  his  thumbs  in  the  arm-holes  of  his  waistcoat, 
and  glanced  impressively  round  upon  the  listening  group, 
“what  I  want  to  remark  is  this:  you  run  a  very  fair 
guard-mounting  here, — I’ll  admit  that;  I  don’t  know 
that  I  ever  saw  anything  much  better”  (he  had  never 
seen  more  than  a  dozen  files  mounted  in  his  life,  and 
our  guard  comprised  forty-eight  men), — “  but  you  don’t 
have  enough  variety  about  it;  you  do  the  same  thing 
over  and  over  again.  Now,  at  our  post,”  etc.,  etc. 

“Very  probably  you  do  introduce  varieties  at  your 
post,  captain, but  where  do  you  find  them  in  the  tactics?” 

“Well,  Mr.  X.,  you  might  make  some  little  changes: 
for  instance,  after  your  guard  passes  the  officer  of  the 
day  it  always  wheels  into  line  to  the  left  and  then  1  fours 
right,’  you  know.  Now,  we  make  all  manner  of  pretty 
changes  there.”  (Chorus  of  “  Yes,  that’s  so.  I’ve  won¬ 
dered  you  didn’t  think  of  that.”)  And  the  critical  cap¬ 
tain  smiles  patronizingly  on  the  adjutant,  who  had  been 


THE  ADJUTANT.  2 7 

mounting  guards  long  before  this  interrogator  had 
stepped  into  his  first  commission. 

The  adjutant  is  certainly  testy  and  snappish:  “Just 
look  in  your  tactics,  and  you’ll  possibly  be  able  to  grasp 
the  reason  why  we  don’t  indulge  in  varieties  on  that 
point,”  and  brushes  past. 

Gradually  they  grew  to  let  the  staff  alone  where  mat¬ 
ters  of  that  description  were  concerned,  but  all  the  time, 
day  after  day,  innumerable  points  were  coming  up,  in 
which  the  universal  custom  was  to  sling  metaphorical 
bricks  at  the  adjutant,  as  though  he  were  to  blame. 
Who  ever  served  at  a  post  where  the  head-quarters  clock 
was  not  the  fruitful  if  undeserving  source  of  half  the 
lates  and  absences  of  the  garrison  ?  What  officer  of  the 
day  who  hurries  out  at  the  last  moment  buckling  his 
waist-belt  on  the  run  does  not  calumniate  the  adjutant 
and  declare  he  had  purposely  set  that  clock  ahead  ten 
minutes,  when  but  a  moment  before  the  old  officer  of 
the  day  was  swearing  over  guard-mounting’s  being  ten 
minutes  behind  time  and  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  get  to 
town  ?  And  then  the  band  at  parade  !  Even  as  Captain 
Curbit  was  assailing  the  adj utant  after  dismissal  of  parade 
over  the  slow  time  played  in  marching  out,  swearing 
that  a  three-legged  stool  couldn’t  keep  step  to  such  a 
grind,  would  not  Captain  Snaffle  rush  up  like  an  explo¬ 
sion  with  “  Look  here,  X. !  By  Jinks !  there  wasn’t  a  man 
in  my  company  could  keep  step  marching  in ;  it  was 
fast  enough  for  double  time”  ?  and  with  the  strains  of  the 
“  Inman  Line”  or  “  Northern  Route”  still  ringing  in  our 
ears,  would  not  Canker,  or  some  other  gifted  critic  who 
could  not  tell  Stabat  Mater  from  “  Taps,”  inquire  when, 
by  George !  that  band  was  ever  going  to  play  anything 


28 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


but  “  Marching  through  Georgia”  ?  Was  there  ever  an 
adjutant  who  did  not  think  at  some  time  or  other  that 
the  meanest  part  of  his  duty  was  in  running  the  band  ? 
Was  there  ever  a  band  that  did  not  contain  among  its 
talented  musicians  some  irreclaimable  devotees  to  Bac¬ 
chus  ?  And,  as  a  rule,  are  not  the  bandsmen  apt  to 
be  the  most  fractious  and  unruly  set  in  the  garrison  ? 
Music,  that  hath  charms  to  soothe  the  savage  breast,  by 
some  strange  freak  of  nature  develops  an  unhallowed 
taste  for  beer  and  a  distaste  for  discipline  among  its 
chosen  disciples,  and  rare  indeed  are  the  instances  when 
the  guard-house  is  not  graced  by  the  presence  of  some 
prominent  instrumentalist,  usually  the  snare-drummer. 
Yet  such  was  our  adjutant’s  zeal,  and  so  thorough  the 
understanding  between  himself  and  his  charges,  that  for 
two  wonderful  months  not  a  member  of  his  band  had 
been  absent  from  roll-call  or  duty,  not  a  man  had  been 
noticeably  under  the  influence  of  liquor,  and,  as  the  colo¬ 
nel  himself  remarked,  his  horses  were  better  groomed 
and  cared  for  than  those  of  the  companies.  But  colonels 
cannot  always  be  with  us,  and  the  adjutant  who  has 
thoroughly  and  faithfully  served  his  chief  finds  himself 
suddenly  thrown  some  day  under  the  second  in  com¬ 
mand,  who  is  rarely,  if  ever,  thoroughly  en  rapport  with 
the  colonel.  Within  a  week  from  the  date  of  the  latter’s 
complimentary  allusion  to  the  discipline  of  the  band, 
and  during  his  temporary  absence  as  witness  before  a 
court,  the  command  devolves  upon  the  next  in  rank  at 
the  post,  and  the  adjutant,  entering  the  office  with  his 
hands  full  of  papers,  is  confronted  by  the  sight  of  this 
latter  functionary  excitedly  tramping  up  and  down  the 
room  and  haranguing  a  knot  of  a  dozen  officers  in  a 


THE  ADJUTANT.  29 

manner  suggestive  of  lively  indignation.  Suddenly  the 
ad  interim  commander  turns  upon  him  with, — 

“Yes,  sir;  and  the  remark  applies  equally  to  you,  sir. 
Your  band  is  utterly  demoralized,  by  George! — utterly 
demoralized ,  sir.  This  morning  my  breakfast  was  half  an 
hour  late,  and,  when  I  sent  into  the  kitchen  to  hurry  it  up, 
there  was  my  cook,  sir,  sitting  on  your  bass-drummer’s 
lap.”  And  the  senior  officer  glares  upon  the  subaltern 
as  though  he  were  the  medium  through  which  the  atten¬ 
tions  of  the  goddess  of  the  kitchen  had  been  alienated 
from  their  proper  object.  Both  the  adjutant  and  the  by¬ 
standers  may  and  probably  do  consider  that  perhaps  the 
charge  of  demoralization  might  be  more  aptly  applied 
to  the  cook  than  the  band,  but  they  have  the  profound 
sagacity  to  keep  such  opinions  to  themselves  until  they 
get  out  of  ear-shot  of  the  office. 

But  all  this  time  those  back  returns  still  hang  fire. 
Companies  “  P”  and  “  R”  have  been  hurried  out  on  a 
midwinter’s  chase  after  the  fleetest  of  Plain  warriors, 
and  are  away  up  among  the  snows  of  the  Big  Horn 
Mountains.  Their  returns  are  not  in,  and  the  regi¬ 
mental  papers  cannot  be  finished  until  they  are.  De¬ 
partment  and  division  adjutant-generals  again  assail  us 
with  mandates  to  furnish  those  papers  at  once.  The 
adjutant  writes  imploringly  to  the  captains  of  “  P”  and 
“  R,”  and  in  the  course  of  a  month  those  gentlemen 
reply  by  inquiring  indignantly  how  in  the  name  of  Jack 
Frost  we  expect  them  to  make  out  returns  with  the 
thermometer  thirty  degrees  below  zero,  and  all  papers 
three  hundred  miles  away.  “You  come  out  here  and 
catch  these  Cheyennes,  and  we’ll  only  be  too  [adjec- 

tived]  glad  to  come  in  there  and  make  out  papers.” 

3* 


( 


30 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


The  adjutant  has  hunted  the  regiment  high  and  low  for 
more  clerks,  but  every  captain  needs  his  own,  no  more 
are  to  had,  and  now  the  thoroughly  wretched  subaltern 
is  sitting  up  until  two  and  three  in  the  morning  working 
at  those  papers  himself.  In  cheerful  appreciation  of  his 
clerical  labors  a  general  court-martial  is  convened  at  the 
post,  and  the  adjutant  is  assigned  to  duty  as  judge-advo¬ 
cate.  Why  this  should  be  so  passes  all  comprehension, 
but  in  nine  out  of  ten  cases  when  a  court  is  ordered  to 
meet  at  the  head-quarters  of  a  regiment,  the  discriminat¬ 
ing  officials  of  the  general  commanding  saddle  the  work 
of  that  court  on  the  shoulders  of  the  adjutant.  It  is  bad 
enough  in  the  infantry,  but  when  it  comes  to  the  cavalry 
it  is  worse  than  imposition. 

The  adjutant  is  getting,  possibly,  three  or  four  hours 
of  broken  and  troubled  sleep  now,  and  many  a  morning 
finds  him  dispensing  with  breakfast  altogether.  His 
three  clerks  are  working  diligently,  when  suddenly  the 
enlistment  of  the  first  and  best — the  only  reliable  one 
among  them — expires,  and  he  takes  his  final  statements 
and  a  good  character  with  him  on  his  way  to  a  situa¬ 
tion  where  he  can  get  ten  times  the  pay  for  one-half  the 
work. 

At  last  “  P”  and  “  R”  return  from  their  winter  cam¬ 
paign,  and  by  dint  of  vigorous  spurring  from  head-quar¬ 
ters  are  induced  to  send  in  the  needed  returns  in  the 
course  of  a  fortnight,  and  just  as  the  adjutant  places  in 
the  hands  of  his  two  remaining  assistants  a  carefully- 
completed  original  of  all  the  required  papers,  with  instruc¬ 
tions  to  work  night  and  day  to  copy  them,  “  up  comes 
an  order”  which  sends  the  colonel  hurrying  Eastward 
to  take  command  of  troops  assembling  to  suppress  riots 


THE  ADJUTANT. 


31 


consequent  on  railway  strikes,  and  the  colonel  directs 
the  adjutant  to  leave  all  and  not  follow  but  accompany 
him  on  first  train.  The  captain  left  in  command  prom¬ 
ises  to  see  that  the  clerks  work  on  those  returns  and 
mail  them  to  the  adjutant  as  fast  as  completed.  In  the 
course  of  a  fortnight,  as  they  don’t  come,  the  latter  first 
writes,  then  telegraphs,  and  finally  extorts  a  reply  from 
the  official  pretty  much  as  follows : 

u  Dear  X., — Both  clerks  got  on  a  drunk  soon  after 
you  left,  and  raised  merry  Hades.  Put  them  in  guard¬ 
house  to  sober  off,  and  then  set  them  to  work  under 
sentinel.  They  got  the  sentry  drunk  too,  and  he  and 
Peck  went  off  to  town  together  and  haven’t  been  heard 
of  since.  Schmidt  (the  other  clerk)  swears  he  don’t 
know  where  your  ‘  originals’  are ;  says  he  thinks  Peck 
built  a  fire  of  them  when  he  was  crazy  drunk. 

“  Yours,  in  haste, 

“  Curbit.” 

The  delights  of  civilization,  the  luxuries  of  “  palatial 
hotels,”  the  feting  of  grateful  citizens  who  have  wel¬ 
comed  the  Regulars  right  royally  (as  the  only  reliable 
protection  against  mob  violence),  are  all  forgotten ;  the 
unhappy  adjutant  obtains  immediate  authority  to  hasten 
back  to  the  frontier,  and  there,  at  head-quarters,  he  finds 
complete  confirmation  of  Curbit’s  letter  and  his  own 
fears.  With  only  one  clerk  left,  he  goes  drearily  to  work 
to  repair  damages ;  all  has  to  be  done  over  again,  but, 
by  dint  of  ceaseless  effort,  he  succeeds  in  the  course  of 
two  weeks  in  making  up  most  of  the  large  array  of 
missing  papers.  He  is  only  two  or  three  months  be- 


32 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


hind,  and  things  are  beginning  to  brighten,  when  the 

war-cloud  that  has  been  hovering  over  the  Northwest 

for  the  last  month  spreads  and  gathers  strength ;  an 

Indian  band,  small  but  plucky,  bidding  defiance  to  the 

troops  of  the  Pacific  slope,  is  making  a  dash  across  the 

continent  to  gain  a  refuge  among  the  sympathetic  red 

men  of  the  eastern  plains.  We  have  been  back  from 

“riot  duty”  just  three  weeks  when  one  evening  our 

colonel  receives  a  telegram  directing  him  to  proceed  by 

first  train  to  a  station  in  the  far  West,  thence  by  stage  to 

the  Wind  River  Valley,  there  to  organize  a  command  to 

march  to  the  very  heart  of  the  continent,  the  vicinity  of 

the  wild  park  of  the  Yellowstone,  the  entire  regiment  to 

follow  him  bv  rail  and  forced  marches.  The  colonel 
* 

hands  it  to  his  staff-officer  with  the  simple  remark,  “You 
and  I  start  at  once,”  and  the  adjutant,  eagerly  welcoming 
the  prospect  of  field-service,  and  almost  savagely  gleeful 
at  the  arrival  of  such  admirable  excuse  for  shortcomings 
in  the  regimental  office,  hurries  off  to  make  his  prepara¬ 
tions  for  the  ensuing  campaign. 

Once  again  it  is  November  before  we  return  to  head¬ 
quarters,  desks,  and  papers,  and  once  more  seven 
months’  returns  are  in  arrears,  once  again  the  same 
grind  commences  and  new  complications  arise.  But, 
Merciful  Powers !  the  pages  of  the  United  Service  are  all 
too  limited  for  the  recital  of  half  the  features,  exasperat¬ 
ing  or  comical,  that  go  to  make  up  the  experiences  of 
the  adjutant  of  a  cavalry  regiment  on  the  “frontier.” 
Looking  over  Sanger’s  “  Duties  of  Staff-Officers,”  and 
accepting  as  gospel  truth  his  theories,  drifting  back  over 
the  tide  of  time  to  boyish  days  in  the  seaboard  case¬ 
mate,  where  we  youngsters  were  wont  to  hear  him  ex- 


THE  ADJUTANT. 


33 


pound  on  military  duties  generally,  recalling  the  hopes 
and  ambitions  in  his  case  so  fully  realized,  we  find  our¬ 
selves  wondering,  par  exemple ,  just  what  he  would  have 
said  in  his  own  vigorous  English  had  his  lot  been  cast 
in  the  cavalry  and  his  carefully-prepared  papers  in  the 
fire. 


34 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 

Not  the  officer  de  jure ,  the  blessed  possessor  of  a  com¬ 
mission  in  that  gilt-edged  array  of  scientists,  the  Ord¬ 
nance  Department,  but  the  unhappy  de  facto  ordnance 
officer  who  is  detailed  to  perform  the  duties  of  that 
exalted  station,  but  by  no  means  to  participate  in  any 
of  the  comforts,  elegancies,  agr6mensy  etc.,  appertaining 
thereto.  Just  the  same  abstri*se  and  incomprehensible 
reasoning  to  which  we  alluded  in  a  previous  article 
(The  Adjutant)  as  impelling  the  department  commander 
(through  his  assistant  adjutant-general)  to  select  the 
hardest-worked  man  in  a  garrison  and  make  him  judge- 
advocate  of  a  general  court,  just  that  identical  hang-for- 
a-sheep-as-a-lamb  style  of  argument  picked  us  out  when 
adjutant  and  plunged  us  into  an  abyss  of  misery  that, 
could  it  have  been  foreseen,  would  have  led  to  our  resig¬ 
nation  on  the  spot. 

We  were  away  up  near  the  Platte  when  it  began,  so 
easily,  so  innocently,  yet  insidiously,  as  every  other 
diabolism  begins,  that  no  human  soul  could  have  fore¬ 
told  the  sequel.  “  Mr.  X.,”  said  the  colonel,  one  bright 
June  afternoon,  “we  march  early  day  after  to-morrow, 
and  the  quartermaster  wants  arms  for  his  teamsters; 
then  we’ve  got  to  arm  these  scouts, — yes,  and  mount 
them ;  there’s  Bill  and  Louis  Sans  something  and  Sioux 
Pete,  and — well,  a  whole  raft  of  ’em.  We’ve  got  to  fit 
’em  all  out.” 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


35 


Mr.  X.  replied  that  he  had  nothing  but  the  arms  and 
horse  equipments  of  the  non-commissioned  staff  and 
band,  all  in  use,  but  added,  with  a  wisdom  beyond  his 
years,  “  However,  colonel,  the  quartermaster  is  in  at  the 
fort  now;  all  these  men  are  on  his  papers,  and  they  are 
with  him  drawing  rations.  Why  can’t  he  draw  arms, 
equipments,  and  all  that  right  there  ?  The  commanding 
officer  will  issue  on  your  order  as  district  commander.” 

“So  he  could,”  says  the  colonel,  reflectively;  “but  he 
says  he’d  rather  you’d  do  it.” 

“  Undoubtedly,”  replies  Mr.  X.  “  There  isn’t  an  officer 
in  the  army  or  out  of  it  that  wouldn’t ;  it’s  like  the  best 
place  to  have  a  boil.  But  I  want  to  get  those  regimental 
returns  started  as  soon  as  we  get  in.” 

“You  won’t,  then.  I  ordered  every  kind  of  desk  and 
paper  left  back  at  Cheyenne ;  we’re  stripped  for  action. 
Tell  you  what :  you  just  issue  orders  appointing  yourself 
ordnance  officer  of  the  Black  Hills  column,  and  get  a 
regular  outfit  of  what  we  need.  That’ll  fix  it.”  And, 
with  the  cheerful  consciousness  of  having  done  his  whole 
duty  and  relieved  himself  of  a  burden,  the  colonel  turns 
in  for  a  nap. 

Mr.  X.  obeyed  orders,  issued  the  order  signed  by  him¬ 
self  as  acting  assistant  adjutant-general,  then  made  a 
modest  computation  of  what  would  be  needed.  Next  day 
at  breakfast  time  he  showed  it  to  the  colonel,  who  cheer¬ 
ily  remarked,  “  Oh,  didn’t  I  tell  you  ?  I  fixed  all  that. 
We’re  going  to  have  a  rousing  campaign,  and  we’ve  got 
to  have  an  abundant  supply.  It’ll  all  be  out  this  after¬ 
noon,  invoiced  to  me,  but  you  sign  the  receipts.  Then 
bust  into  it  and  equip  everybody  soon  as  you  can. 
Here’s  the  two  doctors,  and  some  more  scouts ;  and  old 


36  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

Stamper,  the  paymaster,  he’s  going,  too,  and  Plodder  and 
Hoofit,  of  the  infantry.  Fit  ’em  all  out.” 

Mr.  X.’s  appetite  for  his  breakfast  left  him  suddenly. 
“  In  for  a  penny,  in  for  a  pound,”  quoth  he. 

Not  until  4  p.m.  did  “the  stuff”  arrive  at  camp,  and  to 
X.’s  unutterable  horror  three  huge  wagon-loads  of  bales 
and  boxes  were  dumped  around  his  tent  and  a  brace  of 
receipts,  longer  even  than  his  face,  were  presented  for  his 
signature. 

“  You  don’t  mean  this  is  all  for  me  ?”  he  gasped. 

“  Thim’s  the  orders,”  was  the  comprehensive  reply, 
and  as  scouts,  teamsters,  doctors,  and  “  doughboys”  had 
been  waiting  for  hours  for  the  promised  equipment, 
Mr.  X.  had  no  alternative.  With  a  few  strokes  of  the 
pen  he  took  the  plunge  into  a  purgatory  which,  begin¬ 
ning  with  the  summer  of  the  Centennial  year,  has  held 
him  in  torment  ever  since,  and  only  a  merciful  Providence 
can  tell  when  he  may  hope  for  release. 

Just  then  the  colonel  rode  into  camp.  “  Issued  those 
things  yet,  X.  ?  I  want  you  to  write  some  dispatches.” 

“  Here  are  the  things,  sir,”  said  X.,  with  a  gulp, 
“  only  just  come,  but  I’ll  write  dispatches  from  now  till — 
well,  if  you’ll  only  hand  that  mountain  of  misery  to 
somebody  else.” 

“  There  ain’t  another  man,  X.  You’ll  have  to  do  it. 
The  clerk  can  write  the  letters.” 

It  is  now  4.45  ;  there  are  some  twenty-odd  parties 
waiting  for  supplies.  X.  hurriedly  summons  a  soldier, 
whom  the  colonel  designates  as  the  proper  man  to  assist 
him  as  clerk,  and  pitches  in.  X.  takes  the  memoranda  in 
his  note-book,  and  the  clerk  hands  out  the  items.  Rifles 
to  the  teamsters,  rifles  and  revolvers  to  wagon-masters, 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


37 


arms  and  horse  equipments  to  the  doctors  and  officers 
who  are  to  “  go  along,”  ammunition  to  everybody.  The 
number  on  each  arm  is  carefully  noted  opposite  each 
man’s  name.  It  is  dark  when  they  are  supplied,  and, 
meantime,  X.,  being  adjutant,  has  had  to  go  off  to  guard¬ 
mounting  and  to  obey  two  summonses  from  the  colonel, 
Mr.  Plodder,  of  the  infantry,  obligingly  supplying  his 
place  in  his  absence. 

Suddenly  Captain  Snaffle  appears.  “  X.,  why  the  mis¬ 
chief  didn’t  you  let  me  know  you  were  issuing  ordnance  ? 
I  haven’t  a  decent  lariat  or  side-line  left  in  my  com¬ 
pany.” 

“There,  X.,  don’t  you  see?”  says  the  colonel,  trium¬ 
phantly  ;  “  I  told  you  we’d  want  all  these  things.  Now, 
I’ve  no  doubt  most  of  the  other  companies  are  in  the 
same  fix.” 

It  won’t  do  for  X.  to  say  that  the  time  that  should  have 
been  attended  to  was  the  ten  days  we  lay  alongside  a  big 
ordnance  depot  at  Cheyenne,  where  each  captain  could 
have  supplied  his  company,  and  he  well-nigh  bites  his 
tongue  in  two  in  his  endeavor  to  hold  it  in. 

Now,  as  adjutant,  X.  issues  orders  to  the  company 
commanders  to  draw  at  once  from  the  ordnance  officer 
of  the  Black  Hills  column  such  articles  as  may  be  abso¬ 
lutely  necessary  to  equip  his  company,  by  order  of  the 
colonel,  and  sends  it  round  through  the  dimly-lighted 
camp.  Snaffle’s  first  sergeant  promptly  appears  with  the 
following:  “Wanted,  38  lariats,  27  side-lines,  12  halters 
and  straps,  8  curb-bridles,  15  saddle-blankets,  4  saddles 
complete,”  and  behind  him  follow  six  soldiers,  who  dump 
an  indistinguishable  mass  of  “  truck”  in  front  of  the 
adjutant’s  tent. 


4 


38 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


“  What’s  all  this,  sergeant  ?” 

“  Worn-out  stuff,  sir,  the  captain  said  I  was  to  turn  in 
to  the  adjutant  and  get  his  receipt.” 

X.  springs  to  his  feet  with  an  expletive.  “  Where  is 
the  captain  ?” 

“  Gone  away  to  the  fort,  sir  ;  him  and  the  colonel  rode 
in  together  half  an  hour  ago.” 

It  is  now  9  p.m.  We  are  to  march  at  four  in  the  morn¬ 
ing.  The  orderly  sent  around  with  the  order  comes  back 
saying  he  “  could  only  find  one  captain,  Stand ;  the  rest 
were  all  up  at  the  post  saying  good-by,  and  the  first 
sergeants  and  men  had  all  turned  in.” 

“  I’ll  give  you  the  new  stores  because  I’m  ordered  to,” 
says  X.  to  the  sergeant ;  “  but  as  for  taking  charge  of  all 
your  unserviceable  truck,  it  can’t  be  done.”  And  the 
sergeant  and  his  party  go  off  laden  with  the  new  and  the 
old,  just  as  Captain  Stand  himself  appears  with  his  ser¬ 
geant  and  a  heavily-laden  party.  Their  wants  are  the 
same  as  Snaffle’s,  and  it  takes  another  half-hour  to  dis¬ 
pose  of  them  in  a  similar  manner,  only  Stand  says  he’s 
going  right  in  to  the  colonel  himself  and  get  X.  ordered 
to  receive  his  unserviceable  stuff.  "  It  can’t  be  taken 
along,”  he  says,  not  illogically. 

He  does  go,  and  when  he  gets  back  to  camp  at  mid¬ 
night  he  brings  a  scrawl  from  the  colonel  to  poor  X. 
bidding  him  receipt  to  all  the  company  commanders  for 
their  “  unserviceable  stores.”  With  the  view  of  possibly 
mitigating  his  adjutant’s  woes,  he  adds,  “  A  mere  memo¬ 
randum  will  do.”  Do  !  Of  course  it  will, — quite  as 
much  damage  as  an  official  receipt. 

We  are  to  march  at  4  a.m.,  as  has  been  said  before ; 
at  3.30  on  the  following  morning  the  vicinity  of  the 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


39 


adjutant’s  tent  looks  like  a  junk-shop.  He  himself  has 
had  just  thirty  minutes’ sleep,  during  which  time  he  had 
a  sentry  over  the  piles  of  boxes  and  the  litters  of  rope 
and  leather.  He  is  unrefreshed  and  even  more  aggrieved, 
for  all  the  stuff  is  not  in.  Companies  “  O”  and  “  S,”  whose 
captains  had  protracted  their  leave-taking  until  near  re¬ 
veille,  are  still  to  be  heard  from. 

The  colonel  emerges  from  his  tent  brisk  and  cheery. 
“  Great  Caesar’s  ghost,  X. !  What  have  you  got  here  ?” 

“  Haven’t  had  time  to  find  out  yet.  There’s  more  to 
come,  sir,”  is  the  adjutant’s  mournful  response;  and  at 
the  moment,  as  everybody  else  is  snatching  a  hurried 
breakfast,  the  delegations  from  “  O”  and  “  S”  arrive  with 
their  demands  and  contributions,  and  the  notes  of  the 
“  general”  have  sounded  and  tents  been  struck  ere  the 
adjutant  has  settled  their  hash, — he  has  had  none  of  his 
own. 

“  Sound  ‘  boots  and  saddles,’  ”  says  the  colonel,  once 
more  appearing.  “  You  will  go  with  the  advance-guard, 
X.  Of  course  you  want  to  map  the  country  towards  the 
Cheyenne  River.” 

“  Of  course  I  want  to,  colonel ;  but - ”  And,  im¬ 

petuously  it  must  be  said,  poor  X.  sets  forth  that  here’s 
enough  ordnance  to  stop  his  pay  for  ten  years  if  it  isn’t 
cared  for. 

The  colonel  checks  him  impressively.  “  Now,  my  dear 
young  friend,  don’t  get  agitated.  I’ve  seen  a  heap  more 
service  than  you  have.  You  needn’t  trouble  yourself  a 
bit..  Simply  write  an  order  to  the  commanding  officer  at 
the  fort  to  receipt  to  you  for  the  whole  thing.  Then  make 
out  your  pencil  memoranda,  call  upon  the  quartermaster 
for  wagons,  send  your  clerk  in  with  it.  There’s  the  thing 


40 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


in  a  nutshell.  Now,  first  write  an  order  for  Captain 
Munger  with  ‘  P’  company  to  remain  here  at  camp,” 
etc.,  etc. 

It  sounded  soothing  as — but  this  is  no  place  for  the 
poetic.  Let  us  see  how  it  worked.  The  “  pencil  memo¬ 
randa”  and  orders  were  soon  made  out,  but  not  before 
the  colonel  with  his  command  had  started.  The  quarter¬ 
master  was  called  upon  for  three  wagons  to  carry 
the  things  back  to  the  fort.  “  Three  wagons !  Good 
God !  X.,  Fve  got  to  leave  stores  behind  as  it  is !  I’m 
just  going  after  the  colonel  now  hard  as  I  can  to  tell  him.” 

“  Then  say  for  me  that  all  my  ordnance  is  here  on  the 
open  prairie  without  a  guard,  and  I  can’t  leave  it  until  he 
sends  relief!”  shouts  poor  X.,  in  desperation,  while  Pepper, 
the  clerk,  stands  holding  their  horses.  In  twenty  minutes 
the  quartermaster  is  back,  black  in  the  face  with  wrath. 
“  Why  in  perdition,”  he  wants  to  know,  “  did  X.  get  so 
much  d — d  stuff?”  and  then,  with  much  interspersion  of 
profanity,  tells  him  that  he  is  ordered  to  unload  two 
wagons,  send  all  the  ordnance  back  to  the  storehouse  in 
charge  of  Pepper,  who  was  to  return  at  once  with  the 
wagons,  reload,  and  be  sure  and  get  to  camp  that  night. 
“  As  for  you,  X.,  he  says,  ‘  Come  on.’  ” 

The  adjutant  hands  the  orders  and  memoranda  over  to 
Pepper,  bids  him  do  his  best,  and,  putting  spurs  to  his 
horse,  after  a  hard  ride  rejoins  the  colonel.  The  latter 
is  savage  about  something,  and  receives  him  with,  "  I’ve 
needed  you  a  dozen  times  here.  You  ought  to  have  had 
that  ordnance  business  finished  last  night.” 

That  night  we  camp  at  Rawhide  Butte,  twenty-five 
miles  away,  and  after  dark  in  comes  Pepper.  “  Did  you 
get  receipts  ?” 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


41 


“  I  did  for  the  new  stuff,  sir ;  but  for  all  that  load  of 
old  truck  the  ordnance-sergeant  wouldn’t  take  it,  sir; 
said  he  had  positive  orders  not  to.” 

“  Did  you  show  him  the  orders  of  the  district  com¬ 
mander  ?” 

“  Yes,  sir;  but  he  said  he’d  have  to  wait  till  the  com¬ 
manding  officer  got  up, — that’d  be  eight  or  nine  o’clock, — 
an’  my  orders  from  the  quartermaster  was  to  come  right 
back  wid  the  wagons,  sir,  an’ - ” 

“And  didn’t  you  bring  the  unserviceable  with  you?” 
says  X.,  sepulchrally. 

“  No,  sir.  I  couldn’t,  sir  :  the  quartermaster  said  I  was 
to  get  right  back  and  load  up  his  things  or  they’d  be 
stolen  ;  and  them  was  his  wagons,  so  I  had  to  leave  the 
stuff  at  the  storehouse.” 

“  Inside  or  outside  ?” 

“  Well,  sir,  outside,  a’course ;  the  sergeant  he  was  mad 
at  bein’  waked  up  at  that  hour,  and - ” 

“  That  will  do,  Pepper.”  And  X.  turns  away  to  have 
it  out  with  the  quartermaster. 

To  cut  short  that  initial  experience,  it  is  needless  to 
say  that  when  the  count  of  that  junk  was  made  by  the 
officials  at  the  fort  there  was  a  shortage  of  articles,  the 
money  value  of  which  (new)  amounted  to  $572.33,  and 
X.,  through  subsequent  wanderings,  never  found  out 
what  became  of  them. 

We  hunted  Indians  awhile  along  the  base  of  the  Black 
Hills.  Then  came  tidings  which  brought  us  in  to  Fet- 
terman,  where  vast  accessions  of  officers,  recruits,  and 
horses  joined  and  marched  Big  Hornwards  with  us.  A 
new  colonel  had  taken  command,  and  to  meet  the  emer¬ 
gency  ordnance  stores  had  been  ordered  by  telegraph 


42 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


from  department  head-quarters,  and  Mr.  X.  woke  one 
morning  to  find  himself  responsible  for  three  hundred 
more  bridles,  saddles,  and  halters,  five  hundred  more 
blankets,  side-lines,  lariats,  etc.,  besides  one  hundred  re¬ 
volvers  and  no  end  of  ammunition. 

“  Mount  all  the  infantry  recruits,”  said  the  colonel. 
Then  came  innumerable  new  doctors,  scouts,  teamsters, 
wagon-masters.  “  Supply  them  all,”  was  the  order. 

We  reached  Goose  Creek,  at  the  head-waters  of  the 
Tongue,  and  there  was  General  Crook,  with  a  large  com¬ 
mand,  only  waiting  for  our  coming  to  launch  forth  and 
give  battle  to  the  hostiles  over  on  the  Rosebud,  forty 
miles  away.  All  one  day  was  spent  in  getting  ready, 
and  our  adjutant  ordnance  officer  did  not  have  time  to 
call  his  soul  his  own. 

“  Get  out  your  boxes,”  was  the  order.  “  Every  officer 
of  the  three  regiments  is  to  go  mounted.  Give  to  each  a 
saddle,  bridle,  blanket,  lariat,  pistol, — anything  he  wants, 
— and  take  his  mem.  receipt.”  And  while  X.  was  doing 
it,  and  writing  orders  for  his  colonel  between  times,  and 
trying  to  scribble  some  few  brief  lines  to  the  anxious 
ones  far  away  in  Eastern  homes,  there  came  a  host  of 
company  commanders  from  other  cavalry  regiments, 
hungry  for  new  equipments,  correspondingly  eager  to 
get  rid  of  the  old.  X.  appeals  to  the  adjutant-general 
of  the  entire  command. 

“  Fit  ’em  out  all  you  can,”  says  that  energetic  official 
“  We  just  want  to  get  this  crowd  into  fighting  shape 
quick,  and  then  we’ll  waltz  over  to  the  Rosebud  and  get 
blood  by  the  bucketful.”  So  more  boxes  are  hacked  to 
pieces,  and  for  hours  officers  and  men  of  three  regiments 
of  cavalry  are  going  away  to  distant  bivouacs  laden  with 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


43 


new  equipments  and  coming  back  bowed  down  with  junk. 
It  is  not  improbable  that  on  that  August  afternoon  X. 
receipted  for  a  thousand  pieces  of  old  rope  as  so  many 
unserviceable  lariats.  He  and  Pepper  were  well-nigh 
distracted.  Even  the  newspaper  correspondents — some 
of  them — had  to  be  provided  with  saddles  or  blankets. 
Even  the  scouts  who  for  years  past  had  been  proud  of 
their  old  calibre  5o’s  came  in  with  authority  to  swap 
them  for  new  45 ’s,  “temporarily,  of  course,”  said  the 
order;  but  who  that  ever  knew  a  frontiersman  would  bet 
a  bean  on  X.’s  chances  of  getting  those  45’s  back  “after 
the  battle  was  over”  ? 

(He  didn’t.  It  may  as  well  be  told  here.  Some  scouts 
were  discharged  on  the  Yellowstone  when  X.  was  in  the 
Black  Hills.  Some  deserted  in  the  Black  Hills  when  X. 
was  on  the  Yellowstone.  Some,  like  California  Joe,  Blue 
Peter,  and  one  other  reprobate,  shot  one  another  to  death 
in  private  rows  over  poker,  and  nobody  ever  could  find 
their  arms.  One,  and  one  only,  was  killed  in  manly, 
open  attack  on  the  foe,  and  for  three  months  what  became 
of  his  gun  was  a  mystery;  then  it  was  found  in  posses¬ 
sion  of  a  discharged  soldier,  who  had  bought  it  from — 
but  this,  as  the  novelists  say,  is  anticipating.) 

A  glorious  morning  was  the  5th  of  August,  and  a  fine 
array  the  Big  Horn  and  Yellowstone  expedition  pre¬ 
sented  as,  stripped  for  combat,  it  sallied  forth  to  battle. 
Late  the  night  before,  X.  had  sought  the  adjutant-general 
again.  “I’ve  got  about  forty  thousand  dollars’  worth 
of  ordnance  left  yet,  sir;  I  must  have  a  guard  for  it. 
Excuse  my  mentioning  such  a  trifle ;  but  even  that 
amount  would  make  a  serious  hole  in  my  stipend.” 

“  Why,  hang  it  all,  X.,  just  bundle  it  into  the  wagons. 


44 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


They  are  all  to  be  left  here.  We  won’t  be  gone  six  days. 
We’re  just  going  to  have  one  rousing  old  rattler  of  a 
tussle  with  these  hostyles,  and  then  we’ll  come  back 
here  and  straighten  out.  Don’t  you  see  ?” 

It  was  alluring,  of  course,  but  not  so  reassuring.  How¬ 
ever,  an  order  was  obtained  that  the  ordnance  stores 
should  be  stowed  in  wagons  designated  for  the  purpose. 
All  the  wagon-masters,  teamsters,  some  doctors,  etc., 
were  to  remain  behind ;  but  as  adjutant  of  his  regiment  it 
wasn’t  to  be  expected  that  Mr.  X.  could  hang  back,  even 
to  guard  that  incubus  of  ordnance  stores,  when  his  regi¬ 
ment  was  going  into  action.  The  command  started  out 
buoyantly,  with  four  days’  rations  in  the  haversacks,  and 
enough  to  make  up  ten  days  in  all  on  the  pack-mules. 
X.  went  with  them,  and  never  set  eyes  on  that  ordnance 
again  until  ten  weeks  after ,  when  what  was  left  of  it  was 
trundled  into  his  camp  in  the  Black  Hills. 

It  seems  that  we  did  not  find  the  Indians  over  on  the 
Rosebud.  They  were  a  little  farther  on  by  the  time  we 
got  there,  and  a  good  deal  farther  on  by  the  time  we  got 
to  the  next  place.  They  led  us  a  dance  of  eighteen 
hundred  miles  that  summer  and  fall,  and  many  a  time 
did  X.  find  himself  wondering  how  it  fared  with  that  ord¬ 
nance.  By  the  1st  of  September  he  was  responsible  for 
property  scattered  all  over  that  portion  of  the  continent 
bounded  by  the  Missouri,  the  Platte,  and  the  Rockies. 

Eventually  these  four  or  five  hundred  wagons  moved 
round  from  the  Big  Horn  by  way  of  Reno,  Fetterman, 
Laramie,  and  Hat  Creek  to  the  Hills,  where  they  met 
us.  Meantime,  whenever  a  teamster  lost  his  lariat,  or 
wanted  side-lines  or  a  halter,  or  perchance  a  blanket  or 
two,  as  the  nights  were  growing  colder,  all  he  had  to  do 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


45 


was  to  go  and  help  himself.  Everything  had  been  boxed 
up  at  the  last  moment  at  Goose  Creek,  but  there  wasn’t 
an  unopened  box  when  they  got  to  the  Hills.  Of  course 
the  tacit  and  honorable  understanding  which  obtains 
among  these  gentry  provided  that  they  were  to  return 
these  things ;  but  as  some  got  drunk  and  were  left 
behind  at  Reno,  and  others  got  drunk  and  were  dis¬ 
charged  at  Fetterman,  and  others  got  drunk  and  killed 
somebody  at  Laramie,  they  did  not  all  remember  such  a 
trifle,  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  their  arms. 

When  the  Big  Horn  and  Yellowstone  expedition 
reached  the  northern  Black  Hills  in  September,  about 
one-third  of  its  horses  were  gone,  left  dead  with  ex¬ 
haustion  and  starvation  on  the  bleak  prairies.  As  a  rule, 
the  saddle  and  “  kit”  was  abandoned  at  the  same  time,  as 
there  were  no  wagons  to  put  them  in.  When  we  started 
from  the  Belle  Fourche  to  march  southward,  the  general 
had  succeeded  in  hiring  a  motley  array  of  miners’  teams 
to  carry  along  rations,  wounded  officers,  sick  soldiers, 
and  a  beggarly  batch  of  Indian  prisoners. 

One  morning,  as  the  horses  were  still  dropping  by 
scores,  X.  came  suddenly  upon  a  holocaust  of  saddles, 
bridles,  and  other  cavalry  equipments.  A  sergeant  and 
some  men  had  heaped  them  in  a  huge  pyramid  and  were 
working  hard  to  make  them  burn.  “  What  does  this 
mean  ?”  said  he. 

“  Quartermaster’s  orders,”  said  the  sergeant.  “  Aban¬ 
doned  property ;  somebody  ordered  it  fired,  sir.” 

X.  thought  of  his  tempting  stores  so  many  hundred 
miles  away,  and  a  bright  thought  struck  him  ;  he  had  seen 
an  empty  wagon  a  short  distance  back,  and  hailing  the 
driver,  asked  him  where  he  was  bound.  “  Damfino,”said 


46 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


the  Black-Hiller.  “  Quartermaster  hired  me  yesterday 
on  the  Whitewood  and  told  me  to  come  along ;  but  I 
reckon  he’s  clean  forgot  me.  I  ain’t  had  a  thing  to  do.” 

In  ten  minutes  X.  had  that  wagon  loaded  up  with  every 
kind  of  horse  equipment  except  blankets ;  none  of  them 
had  been  left,  for  the  nights  were  frosty  and  our  men  were 
suffering  keenly.  An  old  cavalry  officer  hailed  him  on 
seeing  his  occupation  to  inquire  what  he  was  doing. 
“  Taking  it  up,”  said  X.  “  There’s  no  telling  how  short 
I’ll  be  at  the  end  of  this  campaign.” 

“  Well,”  said  the  veteran,  “  go  ahead  if  it’s  to  cover  a 
shortage ;  but  if  you  think  that  by  picking  up  and  turn¬ 
ing  in  a  few  dozen  saddles  the  ordnance  people  will  let 
you  off  a  few  dozen  side-lines,  you’re  ’way  off.  If  you 
were  to  save  them  a  million  dollars’  worth  of  property  in 
ten  years’  service  and  come  out  short  a  nickel  on  your 
own  account,  they’d  grind  it  out  of  you  ;  that’s  my  ex¬ 
perience.” 

However,  the  wagon-load  went  far  to  balance  the  deficit 
on  the  Platte,  and  X.  was  enabled  to  take  up  and  turn  in 
some  thirty-seven  curb-bridles  at  Red  Cloud  later  on ; 
but  then  teamsters  had  no  special  use  for  curb-bridles, 
and  of  all  the  items  which  had  been  stored  in  the  wagons 
at  Goose  Creek,  curb-bridles  seemed  to  be  the  only  one 
upon  which  heavy  drafts  had  not  been  made. 

Now,  the  question  was,  how  to  recover  those  missing 
articles.  At  Goose  Creek,  by  the  directions  of  the  ad¬ 
jutant-general,  the  stores  had  been  placed  in  charge  of 
the  wagon-master  of  the  train.  X.  sent  for  him  and  he 

came, — an  entirely  new  man.  “  Where’s - ?”  “  Him  ? 

oh  !  he  was  discharged  at  Reno.  Leastwise  I’ve  been 
told  so.  I  didn’t  come  in  charge  of  this  train  till  they 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


4  7 


got  to  Laramie.”  That  hope  proved  delusive.  Next  day 
X.  tried  the  chief  quartermaster.  He  was  all  courtesy 
and  business,  would  do  anything.  X.  suggested  inspect¬ 
ing  the  five  hundred  odd  teamsters  and  taking  away 
every  new  side-line,  lariat,  etc.  It  started  in  one  corral, 
and  an  irate  regimental  quartermaster  had  it  stopped  in 
no  time.  “  He’d  got  those  things  himself  at  Fetterman.” 
By  the  time  the  inspectors  got  to  the  other  corrals  nothing 
was  to  be  found,  old  or  new.  Next  day  came  orders  to 
prepare  for  a  new  campaign  or  scout,  and  once  again  X. 
spent  two  days  reissuing  to  the  cavalry  and  receiving 
their  used-up  stuff  by  order.  This  scout  amounted  to 
nothing  and  was  soon  over,  and,  once  in  at  Red  Cloud, 
X.  obtained  authority  to  turn  in  all  the  stores  appertain¬ 
ing  to  the  Big  Horn  and  Yellowstone  expedition. 

Several  wagon-loads  were  duly  transferred  at  the  maga¬ 
zine,  and  with  all  this  burden  off  his  mind  X.  gleefully 
looked  at  his  memoranda  only  to  find  himself  deep  in 
the  mire  as  ever,  for,  scattered  all  over  the  vast  fields  of 
our  operations,  were  quantities  of  arms,  horse  equip¬ 
ments,  etc.,  issued  to  officers,  scouts,  guides,  teamsters, 
and  the  like,  and  no  end  of  blankets,  side-lines,  lariats,  and 
picket-pins,  for  which  he  had  no  vouchers  whatsoever. 

Mr.  Plodder,  of  the  infantry,  who  had  obliginglyassisted 
him  the  opening  night  on  the  Platte,  volunteered  an  ex¬ 
planation  which  in  very  small  degree  accounted  for  the 
shortage  in  the  matter  of  lariats.  “  You  see,  X.,  so  many 
men  came  along  who  wanted  a  *  halter  shank’  that  night, 
and  if  those  rope  things  weren’t  halter  shanks  I  didn’t 
know  what  they  were.”  This  was  by  no  means  consol¬ 
atory,  though  a  number  of  cavalry  officers  appeared  to 
derive  an  immense  amount  of  fun  therefrom. 


48 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


The  expedition  broke  up  at  Red  Cloud  and  scattered 
all  over  the  department.  With  some  six  companies  of 
the  regiment,  X.  marched  into  a  big  post  on  the  Union 
Pacific.  The  colonel  was  East  on  leave,  the  major  was 
in  command  and  only  waiting  for  the  return  of  some 
other  field-officers  to  go  on  leave  himself.  An  old  colonel 
of  cavalry  was  in  command  of  the  post  when  we  arrived, 
and  he  was  only  waiting  for  our  coming  to  take  his  de¬ 
parture  on  the  six  months’  leave  then  burning  in  his 
pocket.  War  Department  orders  had  made  post  com¬ 
manders  the  ordnance  officers  of  their  posts,  and  as  such 
the  old  colonel  informed  our  major  that  all  the  papers 
were  made  out  and  he  was  ready  to  transfer  at  once. 
His  family  were  all  in  New  York  to  sail  on  the  steamer 
of  a  certain  date,  and  he  must  be  there  to  meet  them. 
Our  major  explained  that  he  too  was  expecting  leave 
every  day,  that  his  colonel  would  soon  be  back,  etc.,  but 
after  some  skirmising  a  result  was  arrived  at  satisfactory 
to  them  both.  Mr.  X.  was  hereby  appointed  ordnance 
officer  of  the  post,  and  would  relieve  Colonel  Blank  at 
once.  Now,  X.  knew  very  well  that  War  Department 
orders  made  post  commanders  alone  the  parties  respon¬ 
sible  for  ordnance  and  ordnance  stores.  “  But,”  said  the 
major,  ”  the  colonel  will  take  charge  as  soon  as  he 
arrives,  and,  as  you  see,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  for 
Colonel  Blank  to  get  away  at  once.”  The  order  was 
issued,  and  then  came  the  transfer.  In  less  than  a  fort¬ 
night  X.  had  receipted  for  a  whole  arsenal. 

In  an  ordinary  wooden  building,  surrounded  by  equally 
inflammable  quartermaster’s  and  commissary  storehouses, 
were  piled  tier  on  tier  of  boxes  containing  equipments, 
infantry  and  cavalry,  of  every  possible  description. 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER.  49 

Another  room  of  the  same  size  was  equally  full  of  arms 
and  ammunition. 

“  The  building  is  absolutely  unfit  for  the  purpose,”  said 
X.’s  predecessor.  “  It  has  been  condemned  by  a  board 
of  survey,  and  I  have  represented  the  great  exposure  and 
risk  in  having  so  many  valuable  stores  in  such  a  place, 
but  all  to  no  purpose.”  Everything  was  in  as  good  order 
as  such  a  jam  could  be  in  a  building  not  more  than  sixty 
by  twenty-five ;  and  the  colonel,  in  turning  over,  said  to 
X.,  “You  will  find  our  old  ordnance-sergeant  one  of  the 
most  faithful  men  that  ever  lived.  His  word  is  truth 
itself.” 

Just  how  or  why  so  large  an  accumulation  of  stores 
had  been  sent  to  this  particular  post  there  was  no  time  to 
explain.  Our  own  colonel  came  back  in  a  fortnight.  X. 
informed  him  of  the  situation,  showed  him  the  huge  array 
of  stores,  daily  augmented  by  fresh  arrivals  from  Rock 
Island ;  the  colonel  pronounced  it  an  imposition,  said 
that  if  it  were  intended  to  make  a  supply  depot  of  the 
fort  he  would  insist  on  having  a  regular  ordnance  officer 
stationed  there,  and  would  write  at  once  and  make  appli¬ 
cation  ;  which  he  probably  did,  for  the  ordnance  officer 
arrived  seventeen  months  afterwards.  “  Meantime,  Mr. 
X.,”  said  he,  “you  will  continue  in  charge.” 

This  is  how  X.  came  to  be  running  an  arsenal  and 
adjutant’s  office  at  one  and  the  same  time.  We  have 
seen  something  of  how  the  latter  worked ;  now  for  the 
arsenal. 

It  became  apparent  within  a  few  days  that  the  ordnance 

storehouse  of  Fort - was  intended  as  a  depot  of  supply 

for  the  entire  department  of  the  Platte  and  a  good  deal 

outside  of  it.  How  very  much  easier,  simpler,  more  sys- 
C  d  5 


50 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


tematic  it  was  for  the  commanding  officer  at  Rock  Island, 
with  his  array  of  instructed  clerks  and  packers,  to  ship 
in  bulk,  three  or  four  hundred  at  a  time,  the  various  kinds 
of  ordnance  stores  that  might  be  required  on  the  frontier 
to  the  central  post  of  that  department !  What  mattered 
it  to  the  ordnance  department  that  the  labor  of  unpacking 
and  repacking,  distribution,  and  the  infinite  clerical  labor 
required  should  fall  upon  one  already  overworked  cavalry 
subaltern  and  one  faithful  old  sergeant  ?  What  mattered 
it  that  half  the  stores  thus  shipped  had  to  be  sent  back 
in  smaller  lots  over  much  of  the  road  they  had  traveled 
in  supplying  the  requisitions  from  interior  posts,  thus 
doubling  the  cost  of  transportation  ?  Yet  this  is  exactly 
what  did  occur,  and  for  eighteen  months  the  whole  work 
of  supplying  that  large  and  most  needy  department  fell 
upon  the  shoulders  of  that  old  sergeant,  for  never  a  bit 
of  help  did  we  get  except  an  occasional  man  to  assist  in 
packing  or  unloading. 

All  the  troops  of  General  Crook’s  command  had  been 
for  months  in  the  field,  and  without  exception  had  to  be 
resupplied  company  by  company.  Every  day  of  the  week 
brought  requisitions  from  department  head-quarters  “  to 

be  filled  from  the  stores  at  Fort - .”  Every  week 

brought  new  loads  of  supplies  from  Rock  Island,  and,  not¬ 
withstanding  the  fact  that  we  were  constantly  shipping, 
by  the  end  of  December  our  storehouse  was  overflowing. 
In  the  item  of  ammunition  there  were  over  six  hundred 
thousand  rounds,  and  the  colonel,  alarmed  at  having  such 
a  prospective  volcano  in  our  midst,  ordered  it  removed 
to  the  magazine. 

Being  built  for  the  convenience  of  the  post,  this  maga¬ 
zine  had  been  located  exactly  a  mile  and  a  half  away 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


51 


and  out  on  the  open  prairie.  It  was  a  brick  shell,  with 
a  light  roof  and  heavy  door,  evidently  designed  to  oppose 
little  resistance  to  an  explosion  from  within  or  “  pros¬ 
pectors”  from  without,  but  while  it  might  be  unsafe,  the 
adjutant  (acting  ordnance  officer)  was  glad  to  have  addi¬ 
tional  room  in  the  storehouses,  where  now  there  were  in 
the  neighborhood  of  a  thousand  sets  of  infantry  and 
cavalry  equipments.  The  colonel  ordered  a  guard  for 
the  magazine,  but  after  a  week  of  suffering  through 
bleak,  wintry,  freezing  nights  the  men  looked  so  piteous 
at  the  detail  for  magazine-guard  that  he  took  it  off.  Then 
it  was  robbed.  A  party  of  citizens  from  the  neighboring 
town  sallied  forth  one  bitter  cold  night  and  helped  them¬ 
selves  to  what  they  could  carry.  X.  tracked  them  through 
the  snow  back  to  town  on  the  following  day,  and  after 
some  detective  work  succeeded  in  securing  the  arrest  of 
one  of  the  parties  who  had*  a  lot  of  the  stolen  property 
in  his  cellar.  He  was  nabbed  by  the  United  States  mar¬ 
shal  and  duly  tried  before  a  jury  of  his  peers.  Just  how 
many  of  that  intelligent  jury  were  concerned  in  the  rob¬ 
bery  itself  is  impossible  to  say,  but  the  verdict  was  not 
guilty  ;  and  it  may  be  parenthetically  remarked  that  the 
verdict  of  every  jury  in  that  enlightened  borough  in  every 
case  where  a  civilian  was  arraigned  for  crimes  against  the 
life  or  property  of  Uncle  Sam’s  retainers,  were  it  stealing 
a  pistol,  running  off  a  horse,  or  murdering  a  soldier  in 
cold  blood,  the  verdict  was  similarly  “  not  guilty.” 

The  guard  was  again  placed  over  the  magazine,  duly 
supplied  with  a  “  banked”  tent  and  abundant  fuel ;  then, 
to  make  room  in  the  storehouses  at  the  post,  we  moved 
some  of  the  arms  down  to  the  magazine  and  were  about 
straightening  out  the  storehouses  a  second  time  when  the 


52 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


troops  commenced  drifting  in  from  Mackenzie’s  winter 
raid  against  the  Cheyennes,  and  each  command  as  it 
arrived  deposited  a  wagon-load  or  more  of  used-up 
saddles,  halters,  side-lines,  lariats,  etc.,  and  demanded 
receipts.  In  less  than  three  weeks  the  east  storeroom 
looked  like  ten  junk-shops  rolled  into  one. 

Meantime,  we  got  into  a  row  with  the  depot  quarter¬ 
master.  It  usually  happened  that  his  wagons  arrived 
with  a  load  of  ordnance  just  as  “boots  and  saddles”  was 
sounding  for  battalion  drill,  and  the  teamsters  would 
come  to  X.  for  his  receipts  just  as  that  much  badgered 
ordnance  officer,  in  his  capacity  as  adjutant,  was  riding 
forth  to  form  the  line.  “  Mr.  X.,”  said  the  quartermaster, 
“  you  keep  my  men  waiting  there  day  after  day  for 
several  hours,  and  it’s  got  to  be  stopped.”  X.  tells  him 
by  all  means  to  stop  it,  which  doesn’t  satisfy  the  quarter¬ 
master  somehow,  and  he  writes  officially  to  the  colonel 
commanding  to  complain  that  his  ordnance  officer  is 
neglecting  his  business  and  obstructing  the  public  service 
by  detaining  quartermaster  teams.  The  colonel  knows 
perfectly  well  that  his  adjutant  is  “on  the  jump”  from 
daybreak  until — well,  he  doesn't  begin  to  know  how  long, 
but  all  the  morning  at  any  rate,  yet  he  summons  him  to 
hear  what  the  quartermaster’s  complaints  are.  X.  sug¬ 
gests  that  a  good  way  out  of  it  would  be  to  relieve  him 
from  duty  as  an  ordnance  officer  and  put  some  one  in 
who  could  devote  twenty  hours  out  of  twenty-four  to  the 
matter.  The  colonel  again  concludes  that  it  is  an  impo¬ 
sition,  and  decides  to  write  another  letter  requesting  the 
detail  of  a  regular  ordnance  officer,  X.  meantime  to  re¬ 
main  in  charge  and  do  the  best  he  can. 

All  this  time  there  is  that  back  business  of  the  Big 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


53 


Horn  expedition  to  settle  up,  and  X.  is  writing  letters  all 
over  the  country  to  officers  who  were  connected  there¬ 
with,  in  the  desperately  hopeless  undertaking  of  getting 
possession  of  or  receipts  for  the  arms  and  equipments 
issued  during  the  campaign  to  all  manner  of  people,  who 
were  not  to  be  found  at  Red  Cloud  and  Laramie  when  we 
dissolved.  It  was  a  fortune  in  postage-stamps  and  time, 
but  month  by  month  the  accountability  was  lessened, 
and  X.  began  to  feel  vaguely  encouraged.  One  day  it 
transpired  that  a  discharged  soldier  had  a  new  calibre  45 
rifle.  He  was  overhauled  and  questioned  as  to  how  he 
obtained  it,  and  frankly  stated  that  he  had  bought  it  from 
Pepper.  This  was  a  bombshell  in  the  camp.  Next  it 
transpired  that  Pepper  had  forged  his  colonel’s  name  to 
an  application  for  his  (Pepper’s)  discharge,  on  the  ground 
of  habitual  intemperance,  and  Pepper,  who  had  been 
under  guard,  was  remanded  to  closer  confinement,  with  a 
sentinel  to  accompany  every  movement  of  his  outside 
the  guard-house.  Next,  Pepper  skipped  away  from  the 
sentinel,  and  from  that  time  to  this  has  succeeded  in  ' 
evading  recapture.  The  sentinel  was  tried  by  general 
court,  but  proved  that  he  fired  seven  shots  at  the  retreating 
form  of  Pepper,  who  could  run  like  a  deer,  and  the  court 
was  satisfied. 

Then,  in  the  dead  of  night,  some  miscreants  ran  a 
wagon  up  to  the  storehouses,  effected  an  entrance  into  the 
quartermaster’s  shanty  and  broke  through  the  partition 
between  that  and  the  ordnance-rooms,  and  loaded  up 
with  such  things  as  they  could  lay  hands  on.  They 
were  evidently  in  search  of  ammunition,  and  evidently 
too  disturbed  and  hurried  in  their  search,  for  they  mis¬ 
took  boxes  of  picket-pins  for  metallic  cartridges,  and 

5* 


54 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


hauled  off  several  boxes  of  those  useless  pegs.  It  was 
some  comfort  to  X.  to  reflect  how  they  must  have  sworn 
when  they  discovered  their  blunder.  “  Where  was  your 
sentinel  ?”  we  hear  some  “  stalwart”  exclaim.  Bless  your 
heart,  sir,  he  was  right  there,  if  his  statement  could  be 
believed ;  but  then,  you  see,  he  was  guarding  a  huge 
coal-shed,  a  commissary  storehouse,  two  quartermaster’s 
storehouses,  a  saddler’s  shop,  and  some  few  loads  of  hay, 
and  the  night  was  dark  as  pitch.  “  He  didn’t  see  nor 
hear  nuthin’.”  Neither  did  the  other  two. 

Boards  of  survey  were  running,  three  or  four  at  a  time, 
all  that  winter.  They  relieved  X.  So  did  the  depart¬ 
ment  commander,  and  so  eventually  did  the  ordnance 
department ;  but  not  without  a  kick  or  two. 

Once  X.  was  ordered  to  “  take  up”  again  certain  items 
which  a  board  of  survey  had  recommended  that  he  be 
authorized,  and  that  the  department  commander  had 
authorized  him,  to  drop,  because,  said  the  chief  of  ord¬ 
nance,  it  is  not  shown  that  the  responsible  officer  exer¬ 
cised  proper  vigilance  to  prevent  loss.  This  was  em¬ 
barrassing,  but  eventually  the  bureau  yielded  the  point, 
“  under  the  circumstances,”  and  the  items  remained 
dropped. 

Spring  came,  so  did  the  summer  of  ’77,  and  all  this 
time  stores  were  coming  too,  and,  in  smaller  parcels, 
going  day  after  day,  but  no  sign  of  relief  was  manifest. 
In  July  the  great  railroad  riots  took  place,  and  the  colo¬ 
nel  was  ordered  eastward  by  first  train  to  assume  com¬ 
mand  of  the  troops  collecting  at  an  important  point,  and 
the  colonel  ordered  his  adjutant  to  go  with  him.  So, 
with  parting  injunctions  to  the  faithful  old  sergeant  to 
take  charge  in  his  absence,  and  have  Captain  Curbit  sign 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


55 


all  invoices  “  for  Lieutenant  X.,”  the  ordnance  officer 
turned  his  back  on  more  than  a  fortune  in  stores,  rushed 
off  with  his  chief,  and  was  gone  three  weeks.  Returning 
and  finding  everything  working  smoothly,  thanks  to  the 
ceaseless  care  and  attention  of  his  invaluable  ally,  the 
sergeant,  he  returned  to  his  work  of  straightening  out 
the  Big  Horn  papers,  when  again  came  telegraphic 
orders  sending  colonel  and  everybody  into  the  far  North¬ 
west,  by  first  train,  after  the  Nez  Perces.  Once  more 
the  spectacle  was  presented  of  the  ordnance  officer 
abandoning  his  thousands  and  thousands  of  dollars’ 
worth  of  stores  in  obedience  to  his  orders,  trusting 
everything  to  Providence  and  that  crown-jewel  of  a  ser¬ 
geant,  and  this  time  he  was  gone  three  months.  How 
could  a  man  in  the  Yellowstone  Park  be  held  responsi¬ 
ble  for  property  in  Southern  Wyoming  ?  “  He  should 

have  transferred  it  before  starting,”  your  critic  says.  My 
pragmatical  friend,  it  took  a  month  to  transfer  that 
property  when  the  transfer  was  made,  and  Mr.  X.  was 
ordered  to  leave  “  on  first  train.”  “  Then  he  oughtn’t  to 
have  been  appointed  in  the  first  place.”  That  is  precisely 
our  opinion.  Moreover,  we  thought  from  beginning  to 
end  of  that  business  that  the  ordnance  department,  in 
establishing  that  great  magazine  in  the  centre  of  the 
scene  of  Indian  operations  in  ’76,  should  have  decorated 
it  with  one  of  its  own  officers  and  a  squad  of  assistants 
to  back  him. 

Of  course  there  were  some  comical  features  in  our 
experience.  One  of  the  liveliest  cavalrymen  in  the  de¬ 
partment  was  the  gallant  captain  of  the  gray  troop  of 
the  Second  Cavalry.  He  and  his  men  were  always  out 
scouting  somewhere,  and  it  so  happened  that  in  the 


56 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


summer  of  1877  he  had  a  mixed  armament  of  Colt’s  and 
Smith  &  Wesson  revolvers  in  his  troop.  A  short  time 
previous,  X.  had  been  ordered  to  send  him  five  thousand 
rounds  of  Coifs  revolver  ball-cartridges,  and  did  so 
One  blissful  June  morning  the  telegraph  operator  at  the 
post  darted  in  to  X.  with  a  dispatch  from  the  chief  ord¬ 
nance  officer  at  Omaha.  “  Captain  Egan  reports  that 
the  cartridges  you  sent  him  will  not  fit  his  pistols. 
What’s  the  matter?”  Ten  minutes  after  came  another 
from  “  Teddy”  himself :  “  Cannot  use  the  cartridges ;  all 
too  long.”  Then  in  came  the  colonel  with  a  dispatch 
from  department  head-quarters,  and  a  perturbed  expres¬ 
sion  on  his  face.  “  Mr.  X.,  what  is  the  matter  with  the 
cartridges  sent  Captain  Egan?  The  adjutant-general  is 
after  us  with  a  sharp  stick.” 

X.  meantime  has  summoned  the  ordnance-sergeant,  and 
that  veteran  glances  over  the  papers  and  explains  the 
matter  in  a  dozen  words.  “He’s  been  trying  to  use 
Colt’s  revolver  cartridges  in  his  Smith  &  Wessons,  sir,” 
and  so  it  proved.  The  “  revolver  ball-cartridge”  is  made 
to  fit  both  the  Colt  and  the  Smith  &  Wesson,  whereas 
the  “  Colt’s  revolver  ball-cartridge”  can  be  used  only  in 
the  Colt.  This  information  was  telegraphed  at  once  to 
the  captain  in  the  field  and  the  explanation  wired  to 
Omaha,  but  meantime  head-quarters  had  been  racked  to 
its  foundation  at  a  discovery  of  so  alarming  a  nature. 
Dispatches  had  been  sent  all  over  the  country  to  cavalry 
company  commanders  directing  them  to  test  their  car¬ 
tridges  in  Smith  &  Wesson  pistols  and  report,  and  not¬ 
withstanding  our  explanation  an  aide-de-camp  was  hurried 
out  to  investigate ;  he  arrived  next  day,  looked  at  the 
two  pistols  and  two  styles  of  cartridges,  remarked  that 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


57 


it  reminded  him  of  the  profound  philosopher  who  had 
two  holes  cut  in  his  door  for  his  cats,  a  big  hole  for  the 
big  cat  and  a  little  hole  for  the  other,  and  went  back  to 
Omaha.  Shortly  afterwards  all  Smith  &  Wesson  pistols 
were  called  in  and  none  but  Colt’s  issued. 

We  were  constantly  in  receipt  of  telegraphic  orders  to 
ship  stores  at  once  to  all  manner  of  remote  posts.  One 
morning  early  came  two  dispatches :  the  first  saying, 
“  Ship  by  express ,  first  train,  to  commanding  officer  Com¬ 
pany  - ,  Second  Cavalry,”  so  many  carbines,  slings, 

belts,  pouches,  etc.,  and  half  an  hour  afterwards  a  similar 
message  to  send  just  about  the  same  things  to  the  com¬ 
manding  officer  of  another  company,  in  all  comprising 
arms,  ammunition,  and  equipments  for  some  fifty  men. 
Mr.  X.  and  his  sergeant  pitched  in  with  vim,  an  orderly 
was  hurried  down  to  the  depot  to  secure  the  co-operation 
of  the  quartermaster’s  teams  and  the  express  company, 
and  by  noon,  when  the  Union  Pacific  train  rolled  in  from 
the  East,  the  packing-boxes  were  at  the  station  to  meet 
it.  The  proper  invoices  and  receipts  went  with  the 
property  and  others  by  mail  to  the  designated  officers, 
but  the  end  of  the  quarter  came  and  brought  no  receipts 
whatever.  X.  wrote  to  the  company  commanders,  then 
’way  up  near  the  Wind  River  Valley,  and  requested  that 
they  be  sent  at  once.  One  of  them  replied  that  he  didn’t 
get  more  than  half  the  things  specified  in  the  invoice, 
and  the  other  said  pretty  much  the  same  thing,  only 
worse.  This  wouldn’t  do  by  any  means.  X.  knew  that 
every  item  on  the  invoice  was  in  those  boxes,  and  so 
retorted.  Then  it  transpired  that  the  stores  were  re¬ 
quired  to  arm  and  equip  a  lot  of  recruits  going  up  to 
join  those  companies  under  command  of  a  lieutenant 


58 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


who  had  opened  the  boxes  and  distributed  the  arms,  etc., 
on  the  railroad.  X.,  therefore,  sent  him  invoices  and 
requested  that  he  receipt,  and  by  and  by  came  the  reply, 
“  Fm  not  responsible  for  the  stores  at  all.  They  were 
not  invoiced  to  me.  I  simply,  took  them  to  arm  my 
recruits.”  And  then  the  gentleman  obligingly  went  on, 
“  What  you  want  to  do  is  to  make  out  certified  invoices 
and  send  them  in  with  your  papers,  etc.,  if  they  (com¬ 
pany  commanders)  will  not  receipt.”  X.  could  not  see 
that  point  at  all,  and  demanded  that  the  officer  who  took 
the  responsibility  of  opening  and  distributing  should  sign 
the  receipts,  but  it  was  six  months  afterwards  before  they 
came,  and  then  only  on  compulsion. 

At  last,  seventeen  months  after  Mr.  X.  was  placed 
temporarily  in  charge  of  those  ordnance  stores,  all  the 
real  work  having  been  completed,  Indian  campaigning 
being  virtually  over  in  the  department  of  the  Platte,  all 
the  troops  having  been  supplied  with  new  equipments  to 
replace  those  worn  out  in  the  service,  and  the  lull  in 
business  was  enabling  the  ordnance  sergeant  to  com¬ 
mence  “  straightening  out”  the  contents  of  the  store¬ 
house,  the  long-expected  official  of  the  ordnance  depart¬ 
ment  put  in  his  appearance,  and  soon  after  him  came 
the  squad  of  assistants,  clerical  and  otherwise,  without 
which  no  well-regulated  ordnance  establishment  can 
be  conducted,  but  which  we  were  compelled  to  do 
without.  The  transfer  of  property  began  without  delay, 
and  in  the  course  of  six  weeks  Mr.  X.  stood  relieved. 
He  was  behind  in  only  one  item  of  any  consequence, 
and  away  ahead  on  general  average.  It  is  needless  to 
say  that  the  shortage  stands  charged  against  him,  while 
there  is  nothing  to  his  credit. 


THE  ORDNANCE  OFFICER. 


59 


Now,  we  are  painfully  conscious  that  in  all  this  long 
account  of  an  experience  as  acting  ordnance  officer  there 
is  nothing  entertaining  or  lively ;  it  is  as  solemn  as  a 
sepulchre,  but  so  was  the  experience.  We  are  portraying 
trials  and  tribulations,  and  from  its  inception  to  the  still 
indefinite  end  this  has  been  all  vexation  of  spirit.*  We 
look  back  over  those  massive  monuments  of  retained 
papers,  and  wonder  how  we  ever  dared  to  go  to  sleep.  We 
recall  the  constant,  the  incessant  round  of  duties  required 
of  the  adjutant  from  reveille  until  tattoo,  attending  morn¬ 
ing  and  evening  stables,  and  all  drills,  besides  his  office 
and  parade  duties,  and  wonder  what  a  genuine  ordnance 
officer  would  have  said  and  done  under  the  circumstances. 
We  recall  the  issue  of  stores  “  on  memorandum  receipt” 
under  the  peaks  of  the  Big  Horn  and  the  pines  of  the 
Black  Hills,  and  wonder  why  no  ordnance  officer  was 
sent  with  Crook’s  command.  We  met  one  with  Terry 
on  the  Yellowstone,  but  he  was  only  out  to  see  how  the 
equipments  worked  in  the  field,  had  no  property  respon¬ 
sibilities,  and  was  as  free  from  care  and  as  buoyant  as  a 
cork ;  but  then  Terry’s  people  were  housed  in  comfort, 
had  carpets  and  barrels  of  bottled  ale  in  their  tents,  and 
could  support  an  ordnance  officer,  but  we  poor  devils 
had  neither  tent  nor  change  of  raiment,  and  hard-tack 
and  bacon  were  the  daily  bread  of  officers  and  men  until 
we  had  to  come  down  to  horse-meat.  Looking  back  at  the 
depot  in  charge  of  which  we  so  unluckily  stumbled,  and 
compiling  from  our  papers  some  figures  of  the  work 
done,  we  find  that,  besides  the  incalculable  worry  over 
minor  trifles,  we  had  handled  before  the  arrival  of  our 

*  It  was  settled  some  time  after  the  publication  of  this  paper  in  the 
United  Service. 


6o 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


relief  the  quantity  of  ordnance  and  stores  tabled  here- 

with  : 

Received. 

Distributed. 

Rounds  of  ammunition  .... 

1,550,000 

1,054,015 

Rifles  and  carbines . 

2,304 

1,116 

Revolvers . 

L754 

755 

Sabres  . 

1,664 

728 

Infantry  equipments . 

I>543 

L35I 

Cartridge-boxes  and  pouches  . 

2,565 

896 

Holsters . 

1,806 

1,146 

Haversacks . 

2,000 

873 

Bridles . 

3,082 

L979 

Halters  and  straps . 

i,9” 

1,796 

Lariats . 

2,301 

2,290 

Nose -bags . 

1,300 

672 

Saddles . 

1,069 

962 

Surcingles . 

1,264 

1,082 

Saddle-blankets . 

L799 

1,776 

Side-lines . 

2,400 

2,184 

We  may  be  in  error,  but  are 

constrained 

to  the  belief 

that  in  that  table  alone  the  amount  of  stores  is  not  so 
trivial  as  to  be  beneath  the  dignity  of  the  ordnance  officer 
de  jure ,  and  we  are  confessedly  so  pig-headed  that  to  this 
day  we  cannot  be  brought  to  see  the  propriety  or  justice 
of  picking  out  a  cavalry  adjutant,  requiring  him  to  attend 
to  every  item  of  his  own  duty  in  garrison  or  in  the  field, 
and  yet  to  control  and  become  pecuniarily  responsible 
for  such  an  array  of  ordnance  work  and  ordnance  stores 
as  that. 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


61 


AT  WEST  POINT. 

Now,  if  you  please,  those  readers  who  are  not  yet 
bored  to  death  with  Mr.  X.’s  tribulations  in  the  roles  of 
adjutant  and  ordnance  officer  will  follow  him  back  some 
ten  years  or  more  and  take  a  peep  at  the  Military  Acad¬ 
emy  during  a  critical  period  of  its  history.  It  may  be 
objected  that  what  happened  to  Mr.  X.  then  and  there 
cannot  be  regarded  as  a  staff  affair,  and  Mr.  X.  admits 
the  point  as  well  taken ;  but  under  the  general  title  of 
these  sketches  he  had  purposed  to  show  some  of  the 
troublous  experiences  of  a  subaltern  when  out  of  his 
tactical  groove  in  the  line  of  file-closers,  and  a  detail  at 
West  Point  was  one  of  them. 

Not  but  that  he  had  more  or  less  of  an  enjoyable  time 
there.  The  Academy  is  by  no  means  an  unpleasant 
station ;  but  in  the  light  of  subsequent  events  Mr.  X. 
cannot  help  thinking  how  very  much  better  a  time  he 
could  have  had  if  mighty  experiments  were  not  attempted 
just  at  that  period. 

To  begin  with,  it  was  with  sentiments  of  unmixed 
satisfaction  that  Mr.  X.  received,  one  bright  August 
morning,  an  intimation  from  the  commandant  of  cadets 
that  he  had  applied  for  him  as  an  assistant  in  the  depart¬ 
ment  of  tactics  ;  and  a  few  days  later  there  came  an  order 
in  due  form  directing  him  to  proceed  to  West  Point  and 
report  to  the  superintendent  thereof  for  duty. 

For  some  years  previous  Mr.  X.  had  served  as  a  sub- 

6 


62 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


altern  in  a  “  swell”  light  battery  under  a  choleric  captain, 
who  was  more  explosive  than  the  best  percussion-shell 
in  the  market ;  then,  having  served  out  his  apprenticeship 
in  the  light,  he  had  been  duly  transferred  to  a  heavy  bat¬ 
tery,  whose  commander  was  as  easy-going  and  lax  as  the 
other  had  been  capricious  and  exacting.  The  new  duties 
were  slow  and  distasteful  after  the  life  and  vim  of  the 
mounted  service,  and  Mr.  X.  was  wondering  how  long  he 
could  stand  it,  when  the  detail  reached  him.  West  Point 
was  thronged  with  visitors  when  he  arrived  and  found 
himself,  with  some  twenty  new  assignments,  attending 
the  closing  party  of  the  season. 

In  something  like  a  fortnight  those  officers  and  families 
who,  having  been  ordered  thither  during  the  war,  and 
having  been  left  there  ever  since,  had  begun  to  look  upon 
West  Point  as  a  bit  of  personal  property,  were  well-nigh 
ready  to  move  out  and  give  place  to  the  new  comers. 
Mr.  X.  being  a  second  lieutenant,  the  junior  of  his  de¬ 
partment  and  unmarried,  was  happily  relegated  to  a  room 
in  the  barracks  adjoining  the  cadet  company  which  he 
was  assigned  to  command,  and  consequently  could  look 
on  in  philosophical  amusement  at  the  little  tiffs  and 
feminine  spats  which  accompanied  the  movings  out  and 
in  of  the  married  households.  A  few  weeks  more  served 
to  accustom  him  thoroughly  to  the  new  and  very  light 
duties ;  and  having  become  a  member  of  the  mess,  Mr. 
X.  prepared  to  spend  an  enjoyable  winter. 

Entering  the  library  one  sunny  September  morning, 
Mr.  X.  came  suddenly  upon  a  group  of  strangers  of 
martial  mien  despite  the  garb  of  civilians,  and,  in  response 
to  an  inquiry,  directed  the  spokesman  to  the  superin¬ 
tendent’s  office.  Next,  the  superintendent’s  orderly  made 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


63 


his  appearance  with  the  superintendent’s  compliments, 
and  would  the  lieutenant  be  so  good  as  to  step  there  a 
moment.  Mr.  X.  stepped  as  requested,  and  found  the 
superintendent  affably  entertaining  the  group.  “  Oh, 
gentlemen,  let  me  present  my  young  friend,  Captain  X. ; 
Sir  Francis  Famous,  Captain  X. ;  Major  Freeman,  Captain 
X. ;  Captain  Bellairs,  Captain  X.  I  deeply  regret,  gentle¬ 
men,  that  my  engagements  are  such  that  I  cannot  accom¬ 
pany  you,  and  that  I  knew  nothing  of  your  coming ;  but 
Captain  X.  will  do  the  honors  for  me,  I  am  sure.  Captain, 
these  gentlemen  are  of  the  British  army,  and  eager  to 
see  all  that  there  is  at  West  Point ;  I  have  given  orders 
that  the  buildings  and  rooms  should  be  opened  to  you.” 
And  the  superintendent  smiled  sweetly  and  confidingly 
upon  Mr.  X.,  upon  whom  he  had  never  lavished  more 
than  mere  official  notice  up  to  that  moment. 

Mr.  X.  accepts  his  charge,  blushing  at  the  unexpected 
brevet,  and  presently  marshals  his  transatlantic  warriors 
out  of  the  urbane  presence  of  the  commander.  He  finds 
the  Englishmen  pleasant,  chatty  fellows,  full  of  curiosity 
and  interest,  scrupulously  returning  the  salutes  of  sen¬ 
tinels,  soldiers,  and  cadets  who  happen  to  pass,  and 
touching  their  hats  respectfully  as  they  walk  under  the 
flag.  X.  conducts  them  through  the  model-rooms,  the 
drawing-academy,  museum,  mess-  and  riding-hall,  bar¬ 
racks,  and  ordnance-yards,  then  scrambles  with  them  ’way 
up  to  Fort  Put,  where  the  view  strikes  them  simultaneously 
as  being  awfully  jolly,  then  down  again  among  the  bat¬ 
teries,  around  “  Flirtation,”  and  thus  having  consumed 
some  two  or  three  hours,  and  being  not  a  little  heated 
and  dusty,  X.  winds  up  with  the  cool  shades  of  the 
officers’  mess,  and  regales  his  friends  on  Bass,  brandy 


64 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


and  water,  and  cigars.  They  do  it  on  their  side  of  the 
water,  and  expect  it  here.  Presently  they  are  joined  by 
our  genial  Colonel  Bullock  and  several  subalterns,  who 
are  duly  presented  to  the  trio  of  British,  and  invited  to 
join  them  in  refreshments.  They  add  materially  to  the 
entertainment  and  to  its  final  expense,  but  Mr.  X.  feels  a 
professional  pride  in  having  his  guests  suitably  received ; 
and,  as  they  are  obliged  to  go  back  to  New  York  by  the 
afternoon  train  and  cannot  stay  to  dinner,  they  cordially 
accept  his  invitation  to  lunch,  and  three  or  four  jovial 
souls  among  the  married  officers  conclude  they  would 
rather  lunch  informally  with  the  Englishmen  at  the  mess 
than  go  home  to  dinner. 

Now,  it  must  be  here  explained  that,  though  by  no 
means  in  its  infancy  in  those  days,  the  officers’  mess  at 
West  Point  was  controlled  by  a  set  of  rules  and  regu¬ 
lations  that  might  have  been  concocted  for  the  guidance 
of  the  pupils  of  a  small  boarding-school ;  and  one  of 
those  rules  was  to  the  effect  that  any  officer  who  intro¬ 
duced  friends  to  the  mess-table,  or  invited  them  to  par¬ 
take  of  its  hospitality,  should  be  charged  individually 
with  the  cost  of  their  entertainment.  Mr.  X.  knew  it 
perfectly  well,  and  knew  also  that  in  the  English  service 
there  was  an  especial  fund  for  the  entertainment  of 
visitors,  and  doubtless  all  foreign  officers  supposed  that 
the  same  civilized  custom  obtained  at  the  Military  Acad¬ 
emy  of  the  United  States.  However,  to  go  on.  When 
it  comes  time  for  the  gentlemen  of  Her  Majesty’s  service 
to  start  for  the  train,  they  are  duly  escorted  to  the  ferry, 
and  depart,  evidently  delighted  with  their  visit,  and  pro¬ 
fessing  unbounded  hopes  of  “seeing  all  you  jolly  good 
fellows  at  the  Rag  one  of  these  days,  you  know.’’ 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


65 


About  a  fortnight  after,  Mr.  X.  encounters  the  superin¬ 
tendent,  who  accosts  him  cheerfully  with,  “  Oh,  Mr.  X. ; 
just  the  man  I  wanted  to  see.  I’ve  had  a  pleasant  letter 
from  Sir  Francis  Famous,  in  which  he  expresses  his 
great  appreciation  of  the  courtesies  extended  to  him 
here,  and  he  desires  to  be  remembered  to  you.  It  seems 
he  is  a  very  distinguished  cavalry  officer,  and  I  am  grati¬ 
fied  that  we  were  able  to  show  him  so  much  attention.” 
Mr.  X.  mumbles  something  to  the  effect  that  he  is 
charmed  to  hear  it  all,  and  while  abstractedly  wondering 
wherein  his  commander  had  shown  the  distinguished 
cavalryman  so  much  attention,  is  recalled  to  his  senses 
by  the  next  remark :  “  By  the  way,  he  mentions  that 
there  are  two  or  three  other  young  fellows  of  his  ac¬ 
quaintance  coming  up  next  week ;  you  just  look  out  for 
them,  will  you  ?  and  see  that  they  have  a — well,  show 
them  all  the  attention  you  can.” 

Sure  enough,  another  week  brings  two  more  young 
Britons  with  honest,  sun-tanned  faces  and  a  keen  zest  for 
sight-seeing.  One  has  been  serving  in  India,  the  other 
at  Hong- Kong,  and  together  they  are  “  doing”  the  United 
States  on  long  leave.  Having  first  paid  their  respects  to 
the  commanding  officer, — that  formality  which  the  Eng¬ 
lish  soldier  never  neglects, — they  are  affably  entertained 
by  that  functionary  while  his  orderly  hunts  up  Mr.  X., 
who  happens  to  be  on  his  way  to  the  riding-hall,  and 
thither  conducts  his  new  acquaintances,  not,  however, 
until  he  has  heard  the  superintendent  express  his  great 
regret  that  previous  engagements  prevented  his  inviting 
them  to  dine  that  day,  “  but  his  young  friend,  Captain  X.,” 

etc.,  to  which  one  of  them  blushingly  murmurs,  “  Oh, 

6* 


66 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


thanks,  thanks,”  and  the  other,  “  Ah — to-morrow,  per¬ 
haps  ?”  which  last  the  superintendent  does  not  seem  to 
hear.  These  two  are  tiptop  young  soldiers.  They  are 
delighted  with  the  cadet  riding,  but  disgusted  with  the 
McClellan  saddle,  which  does  not  seem  to  suit  their  cross¬ 
country  seat  when  they  try  it ;  but  they  go  riding  with 
X.,  and  do  the  rounds  of  the  Point,  and  are  introduced 
to  many  of  the  officers  at  the  mess,  and  dine  there  with 
X.  and  his  friends,  where  we  duly  drink  Her  Majesty’s 
health  in  unaccustomed  and  rather  fiery  sherry,  and  when 
bedtime  comes  they  have  accepted  the  invitations  of  X. 
and  a  brother  officer  to  rough  it  in  the  barracks  with 
them  ;  and  so  they,  too,  spend  three  days  or  so  at  the 
Point,  and  go  off  well  pleased,  at  least  with  what  they 
saw  ;  and  this  time  X.’s  brother  officer,  a  poor  infantry 
sub.,  insists  on  sharing  expenses.  It  is  not  long  after 
this  that  the  superintendent  smilingly  informs  Mr.  X., 
one  bright  autumn  morning,  that,  in  his  opinion,  “  one 
good  turn  deserves  another ;”  and  as  Mr.  X.  is  wondering 
what  his  good  turn  deserves,  the  superintendent  proceeds 
to  develop  a  new  and  entirely  original  interpretation  of 
the  saying.  “  You  did  very  nicely  by  those  Englishmen, 
Mr.  X.  Now,  here  is  a  party  of  French  naval  officers 

coming  up  to-day,  and  as  I  know  you  speak  French - ” 

“  Indeed,  I  don’t,  sir,”  says  X.  “  Well,  everybody  says 
you  do ;  and,  at  all  events,  you  seem  to  have  more  savoir- 
faire  than  the  others  (last  month’s  mess-bill  was  a  stun¬ 
ner,  thinks  Mr.  X. ;  now  what  will  this  one  be  ?),  and  I 
will  be  glad  to  have  you  take  them  in  hand.  You  have 
nothing  to  do  to  prevent  it,  have  you  ?”  he  asks  as  a 
clincher ;  and  so  Mr.  X.  becomes  the  entertainer  of  half 
a  dozen  elaborately  polite  Frenchmen,  who  accept  the 


AT  WEST  POINT.  67 

supposed  hospitality  of  the  mess  as  freely  as  that  of 
their  own  would  have  been  tendered. 

Now,  this  sort  of  thing  may  strike  the  average  reader 
as  a  very  trivial  source  of  tribulation,  but  it  had  its 
attendant  drags,  and  by  and  by  the  thing  worked  itself 
into  a  first-class  millstone-around-the-neck.  For  two 
mortal  years  visitors — English,  French,  German,  Aus¬ 
trian,  and  Russian — kept  arriving  at  the  Academy,  and 
time  and  again  Mr.  X.  had  to  listen  to  the  same  apology 
from  the  superintendent,  and  the  same  intimation  that 
his  young  friend  Captain  X.  would  do  the  honors.  Time 
and  again  these  parties  had  to  be  entertained;  and, 
though  one  thousand  dollars  a  year  was  placed  in  the 
hands  of  the  superintendent  for  the  entertainment  of 
visitors  to  the  Academy,  that  presumably  went  to  the 
Board  of  Visitors  in  June,  and  the  politicians  who  voted 
it  when  they  dropped  in  for  a  visit.  These  were  the 
days  when  superintendents  were  not  generals,  and  had 
no  attendant  aides-de-camp  to  help  them  through  the 
mill,  and  so  Mr.  X.  was  utilized  ;  and  while  he  could  not 
and  would  not  ask  the  mess  to  defray  these  expenses 
of  entertainment,  and  while  it  rarely  happened  that 
members  thereof  came  forward  and  volunteered  to  share 
them  with  him,  he  soon  found,  to  his  ineffable  disgust, 
that  there  were  some  two  or  three  men  who  generally 
dropped  in  when  foreign  visitors  were  there,  who  were 
sure  to  be  presented  and  to  accept  invitations  to  join  in 
the  inevitable  refreshments,  and  then  to  go  off  and  say 
that  that  fellow  X.  was  burning  his  candle  at  both  ends, 
and  would  soon  find  himself  swamped.  As  for  the 
superintendent,  it  probably  never  occurred  to  him  that  it 
cost  X.  a  cent. 


68 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


X.  was  somewhat  ruefully  contemplating  a  mess-bill 
and  treasurer’s  account  of  the  usual  dimensions  (for  him) 
one  morning  in  early  spring-time,  when  a  brother  officer 
of  the  engineers  dropped  in  for  a  chat.  “  What  do  you 
think  of  the  news  ?”  was  the  first  remark  that  seemed 
to  possess  more  than  a  languid  interest  for  either 
party.  “  Haven’t  heard  any  worth  thinking  about,”  was 
the  reply.  “  Didn’t  you  know  two  niggers  had  been 
appointed  cadets?”  said  one.  “No;  but  I’m  not  in  the 
least  surprised,”  said  the  other.  “  Well,  it  is  true ;  I 
heard  it  at  the  supe’s  office  ten  minutes  ago.”  “  Supe,” 
be  it  known,  is  the  irreverent  abbreviative  by  which  the 
average  West  Pointer  in  those  days  was  wont  to  desig¬ 
nate  the  magnate  in  command.  That  evening,  at  mess, 
the  subject  came  up  for  discussion  during  dinner,  and  so 
completely  had  the  thing  been  foreseen,  and  so  utterly 
was  it  looked  upon  as  a  matter  of  course,  that,  except 
among  the  very  youthful  members  present,  no  comment 
whatever  was  made.  In  that  party  of  twenty-five  or 
thirty  officers  it  is  probable  that  few  were  able  to  tell 
anything  of  the  political  opinions  of  their  comrades,  and 
there  was  not  a  man  in  the  mess  who  could  have  classed 
all  of  them.  Some  had  been  reared  in  the  Democratic 
faith,  more  had  risen  from  the  ranks  of  the  Republican 
party  ;  but  among  them  only  one  creed  was  recognized 
in  the  days  of  which  this  chronicle  may  treat, — loyalty 
to  the  general  government. 

Mr.  X.  does  not  propose  stopping  to  portray  the  virtue 
or  credit  of  the  circumstance,  but,  whatever  might  have 
been  the  individual  opinions  of  the  officers  on  duty  at  the 
Military  Academy  at  that  time  as  to  the  advisability  of 
starting  the  lately  enfranchised  in  the  race  for  commis- 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


69 


sions  in  the  regular  service,  they  took  the  fact  that  repre¬ 
sentatives  were  duly  entered  by  proper  authority  as  all- 
sufficient.  As  judges,  stewards,  etc.,  it  was  simply  their 
duty  to  see  that  this  new  and  very  dark  horse  had  a  fair 
show,  and  the  only  question  in  his  (Mr.  X.’s)  mind  at 
this  day  is  whether  they  did  not  overdo  it. 

There  was  no  discussion  at  all.  The  youngsters  held 
their  tongues  and  listened  when  the  few  words  of  advice 
were  spoken  by  the  seniors,  and  then  went  off  and  said 
no  more  about  it.  One  officer  whose  father  was  a  strong 
pro-slavery  man  before  the  war  did  say,  “  Well,  it’s  a  free 
country.  Uncle  Sam  owns  the  craft  and  hires  me  as  one 
of  the  crew ;  I’ll  handle  any  freight  he  chooses  to  ship, 
but  he’s  loading  the  old  boat  down  to  the  guards  this 
trip,  sure.”  But  there  wasn’t  a  man  that  more  conscien¬ 
tiously  strove  to  do  his  duty  when  the  “  freight”  came 
than  he.  There  was  only  one  sentiment.  It  is  the 
nation’s  school,  and  we  are  here  to  teach  to  the  best  of 
our  ability  any  and  all  scholars  the  nation  may  send. 

So  much  for  sentiment,  now  for  narration.  One  bright 
June  morning  our  burly  and  vastly  popular  commandant 
assembled  by  order  his  four  company  commanders, — 
“  tactical  officers”  they  used  to  call  us, — and  among  these 
was  Mr.  X. 

On  all  occasions  when  it  was  necessary  to  be  impressive, 
“  Old  Harry”  was  wont  to  assume  a  tragic  profundity  of 
voice,  an  awful  solemnity, — severity  of  mien  that  to  the 
uninitiated  was  something  superhuman.  It  would  cause 
a  cadet  coming  into  that  presence  as  a  culprit  for  the  first 
time  to  quake  in  his  shoes,  while  the  little  rascals  of 
drummer-boy  orderlies,  who  were  used  to  it,  would  be  so 
convulsed  with  suppressed  laughter  and  their  efforts  to 


70 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


keep  straight  faces  that  they  would  half  the  time  bolt 
from  his  presence  with  no  idea  of  the  message  on  which 
they  were  sent.  It  was  something  that  would  bring  out 
half  the  battalion  giggling  around  the  company  officers’ 
tents  to  hear  the  colonel  arraigning  his  cadet  officer  of 
the  day.  The  air  was  as  full  of  boom,  rumble,  roar,  crash, 
and  bang  as  Mark  Twain’s  description  of  a  thunder¬ 
storm,  and  yet  Mr.  X.  can  recall  that  when  he  for  the 
first  time  listened  with  stunned  faculties  to  a  reprimand 
administered  to  him  as  cadet  adjutant,  and  it  was  dawning 
upon  his  dazed  brain  that  a  mistake  in  the  morning  re¬ 
turn  of  the  battalion  was  a  crime  akin  to  forgery,  and 
that  his  chevrons  were  to  be  torn  off  by  the  roots  in 
thirty  seconds  more,  all  of  a  sudden  the  hurricane  ceased, 
a  blessed  calm  stole  upon  the  storm-swept  features  of  the 
colonel  and  over  the  senses  of  the  stripling  standing 
attention  before  him,  and  a  mild  and  benignant  voice, 
coming  Mr.  X.  wondered  from  where,  cooed  forth, 
“  There,  youngster,  that’s  all  I’ve  got  to  say  ;  now  go  off 
and  think  no  more  about  it”  This  was  'way  back  in  cadet 
days,  and  in  Old  Harry’s  first  year  in  the  commandant’s 
office.  It  is  five  years  afterwards  that  he  has  summoned 
us  thither  again,  and  though  the  skies  have  changed, 
grim-visaged  war  smoothed  his  wrinkled  front,  the  genial, 
winning,  lovable  old  imposture  is  the  same  as  ever ;  he 
has  something  impressive  to  say,  and  as  usual  proceeds 
to  work  himself  up  to  the  proper  frenzy, — his  heart  is  too 
soft  for  the  task. 

Knowing  him  well,  we  four  are  seated  before  him  in 
solemn  silence,  with  decorous  and  respectful  glance.  A 
shock-headed  drummer-boy,  Bohrer,  is  clumsily  fum¬ 
bling  at  the  strings  of  the  curtain,  trying  to  let  down  the 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


71 


shade.  Bohrer  is  the  personification  of  awkwardness, 
and  on  him  no  amount  of  “  setting-up”  ever  took  effect. 
No  word  is  spoken  as  the  commandant  gloweringly 
watches  his  victim,  for  he  is  always  storming  at  that  boy, 
and  letting  him  have  double  the  length  of  time  at  supper 
to  pay  for  it.  At  last  his  patience  is  exhausted.  Like 
the  resonant  roar  of  the  “  light  twelve”  his  voice  thun¬ 
ders,  “  Boy !”  and  the  hapless  orderly  dropping  his  work, 
starts  at  the  word,  and  faces  the  colonel.  “  Out  with  ye  !” 
And  the  youngster  tumbles  for  the  door. 

Then  Old  Harry  reviews  us  with  a  frowning  gaze. 
One  after  another,  slowly  and  deliberately,  he  looks  us 
completely  over,  and  we  as  solemnly  look  back  at  him. 
Then,  slowly  and  majestically,  he  rises  to  the  full  height 
of  his  six  feet  four,  and  expands  his  powerful  chest ;  then 
from  the  depths  of  his  lungs,  slow,  measured,  ominous, 
detonating  in  rumbling  basso  profundo,  we  hear  the 
words,  “  Gentlemen,  the  crisis  has  come  !” 

Well,  nobody  seems  to  be  disturbed  somehow  ;  all  look 
as  though  they  expected  it  of  course,  but  no  one  for  a 
moment  ventures  a  remark.  Meanwhile,  sterner  and 
sterner  the  regards  of  our  ponderous  chief  take  us  in. 
At  last,  finding  this  sort  of  thing  oppressive,  one  of  our 
number,  a  Kentuckian,  who  has  small  reverence  for  per¬ 
sons  and  no  sense  of  dramatic  propriety,  lapsing  naturally 
into  the  vernacular  of  the  blue-grass  country,  cheerfully 
pipes  up,  “  Well,  I  s’pose  you  mean  the  nigger,”  and  that 
furnishes  Old  Harry  with  his  cue.  He  well-nigh  blazes 
with  pent-up  consternation,  but  delivers  his  fire  with 
telling  effect.  The  mere  use  of  such  a  word  as  nigger 
may  cost  a  man  his  commission  hereafter ;  but,  to  boil 
down  the  lecture  to  a  point,  we  receive  explicit  instruc- 


72 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


tions  as  to  how  those  young  gentlemen  of  color  are  to 
be  received,  protected,  and  cherished,  and  by  noon  of 
that  day  the  pioneers  of  their  race,  two  in  number,  are 
safely  lodged  in  an  airy  room  in  that  portion  of  the  cadet 
barracks  devoted  to  all  new-comers,  and  the  press  of  the 
nation  rings  with  the  news  that  the  colored  cadet  is  a 
fact. 

Before  they  had  been  there  ten  days  we  had,  as  a 
matter  of  course,  an  outrage.  Up  to  that  time  there  had 
been  no  sign  of  turbulence  among  the  cadets.  There 
was  great  curiosity  on  their  part  to  see  the  new-comers, 
but,  thanks  to  their  color,  those  two  young  aspirants  were 
not  subjected  to  the  tormenting  system  of  initiation  then, 
and  for  years  previous,  in  vogue  at  the  Academy.  As 
they  arrived  the  “  plebes”  were  duly  marked  by  vigilant 
eyes  from  the  barrack  windows,  and  immediately  after 
breaking  ranks  after  dinner  that  day,  or  certainly  after 
supper  in  the  evening,  those  who  had  reported  since  the 
previous  day  were  surrounded  by  an  eager  knot  of 
“  yearlings”  and  badgered  with  questions :  “  What’s 
your  name,  plebe  ?”  “  What  State  do  you  represent  ?” 

“  Ohio  ?”  “  Great  Scott !  fellows,  look  at  this  plebe ;  says 

he  represents  the  State  of  Ohio.”  “  Do  you  aspire  to  the 
command  of  troops  ?”  “  You  do  ?  Jeewhillikins  !  if  here 
isn’t  a  plebe  who  aspires  to  the  command  of  troops ! 
Look  at  him.”  “  You  don’t?  Then  what  in  blazes  did 
you  come  here  for?”  All  very  rough  and  reprehensible 
sans  doute ,  but  leveling,  sir,  leveling,  as  all  good  dem¬ 
ocrats  would  have  the  Academy  of  the  nation. 

The  stern,  Argus-eyed  cadet  corporals  on  duty  over 
the  new  cadets  were  overpoweringly  intolerant  of  the 
faintest  blunder  the  unsoldierly  muscles  of  the  novices 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


7  3 


were  sure  to  make,  and  wrathful  commentaries  were  as 
sure  to  follow  ;  but  all  this,  and  much  more,  the  Africans 
gazed  at  but  took  no  part  in.  Few  cadets  seemed  to  take 
more  notice  of  them  than  a  prolonged  stare,  and  their 
cadet  instructors  corrected  their  blunders  in  as  few  words 
as  possible,  and  strove  to  set  them  right  without  fuss  of 
any  kind. 

It  could  not  be  said  that  they  were  ignored,  for  they 
were  the  centres  of  attraction ;  and  so  far  as  officers  of 
the  tactical  department  were  concerned,  all  were  on  the 
qui  vive  to  see  that  they  were  unmolested.  The  two 
were  a  curious  contrast :  one  a  chuckling,  bullet-headed 
little  darky  from  Mississippi,  whose  great  eyes  would 
wander  from  object  to  object  as  though  in  search  of 
something  to  excuse  the  cachination  for  which  his  soul 
was  longing;  the  other  a  tall,  slim,  loose-jointed,  cadav¬ 
erous  party,  with  arms  and  legs  of  extraordinary  length, 
and  an  indescribable  complexion,  chalky-white,  except 
in  spots  where  the  tan  struck  through,  and  occasional 
deeper  blotches  of  brown  ;  little,  beady,  snake-like  eyes, 
high  cheek-bones,  and  kinky  hair,  No.  2  was  the  per¬ 
sonification  of  repulsive  gloom,  while  little  Mississippi 
seemed  looking  everywhere  for  a  chance  for  fun. 

In  those  days  the  cadets  all  repaired  to  a  room  in  the 
barrack  basement  to  have  their  shoes  blacked,  and  some¬ 
times  just  before  parade  or  inspection  the  whole  corps 
would  be  swarming  thither.  One  morning  the  new 
cadets  were  crowded  in  there,  the  Africans  among  them, 
and  the  first  outrage  upon  the  colored  cadet  was  alleged 
to  have  taken  place. 

According  to  the  combined  statements  of  the  colored 
gentlemen  from  South  Carolina  and  Mississippi,  the  for- 

d  7 


74 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


mer  acting  as  spokesman,  the  latter  unhesitatingly  cor¬ 
roborating  by  eager  nods  and  gestures,  the  circumstances 
were  substantially  as  follows :  When  it  came  their  turn 
to  step  upon  the  shoeblack’s  bench  they  had  been 
roughly  hustled  off,  with  much  abusive  language,  by 
their  white  classmates  (no  “  old  cadets”  were  present), 
and  upon  their  remonstrance  and  reassertion  of  their 
rights  to  have  their  shoes  blacked  in  their  turn,  they 
had  been  seized  by  the  throat,  hurled  against  the  wall, 
and  held  there  by  certain  young  gentlemen,  whose  names 
they  gave,  who  at  the  time  drew  bowie-  and  large  pocket- 
knives,  and  threatened,  with  much  frightful  and  profane 
emphasis,  to  cut  their  hearts  out,  and  then  drove  them 
from  the  room. 

The  whole  story  looked  plausible,  if  not  probable. 
New  cadets  were  always  examined  on  arrival,  to  see  that 
none  had  pistols  or  knives  in  their  possession;  a  system 
that  had  been  adopted  of  necessity  in  the  days  when  the 
chivalry  “  ran”  the  institution,  and  it  was  not  exactly 
credited  that  bowie-knives  had  been  brandished ;  but  the 
colored  gentlemen  were  emphatic  and  reiterative,  the 
Mississippian  going  so  far  as  to  blurt  out,  “  Yes,  sah ; 
an’ — an’  pistols,  too — six-shooters.” 

An  instant  investigation  was  ordered,  and  half  an  hour 
from  the  time  the  outrage  occurred  three  officers  were 
taking  testimony  in  a  barrack  room. 

Possibly  because  of  the  fact  that  he  had  been  reared 
in  the  faith  of  abolitionism,  and  had  been  taught  the 
crime  and  shame  of  slavery  from  babyhood ;  possibly 
because  he  represented  a  name  that  was  identified  with 
the  sending  forth  of  the  first  colored  troops  raised  in  our 
Northern  land  during  the  late  Rebellion  (the  scene  is 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


75 


commemorated  in  the  admirable  painting  at  the  Union 
League  in  New  York  City),  it  fell  to  Mr.  X.’s  lot  to  be 
the  recorder  of  that  investigation,  and  he  entered  upon 
the  duty  with  every  conviction  in  his  mind  that  the  story 
was  true.  It  was  just  what  he  had  been  dreading,  and 
here  was  the  time  to  take  the  stitch  that  might  save  nine 
and  prevent  all  future  affairs  by  securing  prompt  punish¬ 
ment  of  the  first  offenders. 

First  to  be  examined  were  the  two  complainants. 
Hitherto  they  had  simply  backed  up  one  another’s  ver¬ 
sion  of  the  affair;  now  they  appeared  singly,  South  Caro¬ 
lina  leading,  and  very  glibly  and  vindictively  he  gave  his 
testimony,  and  unflinchingly  submitted  to  cross  exami¬ 
nation.  He  had  done  nothing  whatever  but  simply 
suffer  the  assault.  Then  came  little  chuckle-head  from 
Mississippi,  and,  deprived  of  the  supporting  presence  of 
his  spotted  associate,  it  became  evident  at  once  that  he 
was  all  afloat.  Every  time  he  told  his  story  it  differed  in 
important  detail  from  his  previous  attempt.  Mr.  X. 
argued  that  he  was  naturally  excited  and  “  flustered”  by 
the  circumstances  of  the  morning,  and  secured  time  for 
his  witness  to  “  think  over  the  matter  for  a  while,”  though 
the  board  of  investigators  very  properly  declined  to 
allow  him  to  have  a  chance  to  compare  notes  with  the 
gentleman  from  South  Carolina,  so  he  was  temporarily 
relegated  to  a  room  by  himself.  Meantime,  the  six  new 
cadets  mentioned  in  the  accusation  as  being  prominent 
in  the  outrage  were  examined  one  by  one.  Their  stories 
fitted  together  with  exact  nicety,  nor  had  they  had  time 
to  concoct  one.  The  instant  after  the  affair  took  place 
all  the  implicated  parties  were  placed  under  surveillance. 
Six  or  seven  eye-witnesses  to  the  transaction  were  then 


76 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


examined,  and  to  a  man  the  white  cadets  testified  that 
while  there  had  been  some  elbowing  and  shoving  be¬ 
tween  New  Cadet  -  and  the  gentleman  from  South 

Carolina  consequent  upon  a  misunderstanding  as  to 
whose  turn  it  was,  no  other  violence  took  place,  hardly 
a  word  was  spoken,  and  there  was  no  time  for  any  out 
rage,  as  the  South  Carolinian  loudly  and  excitedly  called 
to  the  Mississippian  to  follow  him  the  instant  he  stepped 
back  or  was  shoved  back  from  the  bench,  and  together 
they  had  hurried  from  the  room,  shouting,  “  Nozv  we’ll 
see  we  get  our  rights,”  upon  which  the  white  cadets  had 
indulged  in  some  laughter,  doubtless  derisive ;  but  one 
and  all  agreed  that  not  a  hand  had  been  laid  on  the 
colored  boys,  not  a  knife  had  been  drawn,  and  beyond 
the  “  Who  are  you  shovin’  ?”  remarks  naturally  to  be 
expected  under  such  circumstances,  there  had  been  no 
bad  language  of  any  kind.  Cross-examination  failed  to 
shake  their  statements  in  the  least. 

Then  the  South  Carolinian  was  recalled.  This  time 
the  white  portion  of  his  skin  looked  ghastly,  his  beady 
eyes  flitted  in  quick  furtive  glances  from  one  face  to 
another ;  he  gave  his  version  of  the  affair  a  third  time, 
stolidly,  sullenly,  as  though  he  knew  every  word  was 
questioned  and  yet  was  bound  to  stick  to  it.  He  had 
his  lesson  pretty  well,  but  slipped  on  several  minor 
points  in  cross-examination.  When  the  discrepancies 
were  pointed  out  to  him,  he  bit  his  lip,  apparently  strove 
to  enlarge  a  knot-hole  in  the  floor  with  the  toe  of  his 
boot,  and  muttered  that  that  was  all  he  knew  about  it ; 
he  declined  to  say  any  more.  He  was  sent  to  his  room 
and  the  little  Mississippian  called  in.  He  broke  down  at 
the  second  question,  hung  his  head,  giggled,  stammered, 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


77 


chuckled,  experimented  with  his  boot-toe  on  the  same 
knot-hole,  and  then  threw  up  the  sponge  with  an  air  of 
evident  relief. 

Q.  “  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  your  previous  statement 
was  untrue  ?” 

A.  “Ye — es,  sah.”  (Chuckle.) 

Q.  “  Then  no  knives  were  drawn  ?” 

A.  “  No,  sah.” 

Q.  “  Then,  did  the  cadets  lay  hands  on  you  or  Mr. 
- ,  or  not?” 

A.  “  No,  sah ;  they  didn’t  touch  us.” 

Thereupon  one  of  the  investigating  officers  popped  in 
with  this  question :  “  In  plain  words,  was  or  was  not 
your  whole  statement  a  deliberate  lie  ?” 

Mr.  X.  informed  the  gentleman  from  Mississippi  that 
he  need  not  answer  that  question,  this  was  a  mere  pre¬ 
liminary  investigation  to  see  whether  or  no  further  pro¬ 
ceedings  would  be  necessary ;  but  Chuckle-head  was  on 
the  stool  of  repentance  and  wanted  to  make  a  clean 
breast  of  it.  He  unhesitatingly  asseverated  that  he  had 
been  lying;  that  he  and  his  associate  had  been  put  up  to 
the  whole  performance  by  letters  from  colored  friends 
and  carpet-bag  politicians,  who  told  them  to  go  ahead 
with  any  story  they  liked  and  they  would  support  them. 
And  so  the  bubble  burst. 

A  few  days  more  sufficed  to  close  the  academic  career 
of  the  little  Mississippian.  He  was  unable  to  pass  the 
preliminary  examination  for  admission  and  dropped  out, 
but  the  South  Carolinian  started  fairly.  Liar  or  no  liar, 
the  government  was  bound  to  give  him  a  chance,  and  just 
as  though  his  soul  were  unspotted  with  guile  his  instruc¬ 
tion  began.  For  three  long  and  eventful  years  the  aca 

7* 


73 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


demic  system  was  drained  by  the  suppuration  kept  up  by 
this  poisoned  blade  of  the  entering  wedge  with  which 
its  enemies  had  hoped  to  render  it  asunder.  Then  the 
foreign  matter  fell  out  through  its  own  decay. 

Of  all  the  low,  tricky,  vindictive  bipeds  that  walked 
the  earth,  it  would  have  been  difficult  for  the  “  friends  of 
the  movement”  to  have  selected  a  specimen  better  quali¬ 
fied  to  carry  out  their  plans.  Time  and  again  he  was 
court-martialed  for  offenses  for  which  a  white  cadet 
would  have  been  sent  out  neck  and  crop ;  but  though 
found  guilty  and  sentenced  to  dismissal,  and  though  the 
high  authorities  at  Washington  were  compelled  to  admit 
the  absolute  justice  of  the  findings  and  sentence,  and  to 
stamp  them  with  their  approval,  yet  was  the  whole  gov¬ 
ernment  of  the  United  States  so  committed  to  this  polit¬ 
ical  experiment  that  the  Secretary  of  War  was  compelled 
to  announce  in  general  orders  that  “  the  policy  of  the 
administration  could  not  admit  of  the  dismissal  of  this 
cadet  at  the  present  time”  (or  words  to  that  effect),  and 
directed  his  restoration  to  duty.  The  darky  felt  his 
importance,  and  acted  accordingly.  He  would  vent  his 
hatred  on  the  old  cadets  (who  ignored  him)  by  kicking 
their  shins  as  he  marched  behind  them  in  ranks, — a  pro¬ 
ceeding  they  could  not  resent  at  the  time,  and  reporting 
him  did  no  good ;  he  would  deny  or  excuse  it  on  the  plea 
of  accident ;  it  was  useless  to  court-martial,  and  if  other 
means  were  resorted  to — well,  here’s  what  followed : 

Sitting  in  his  office  as  the  battalion  came  marching 
back  from  supper  one  winter’s  evening,  Mr.  X.  noticed 
some  stir  and  disorder  in  Company  “  A”  as  it  broke 
ranks ;  a  moment  later  the  colored  cadet  rushed  into  his 
presence  all  excitement. 


AT  WEST  POINT.  79 

“  Mr.  X.,  I  claim  your  protection.  I  am  in  fear  of  my 
life.” 

Mr.  X.  assures  the  claimant  that  no  harm  shall  come 
to  him,  and  requests  further  explanation.  The  darky 
states  that  on  breaking  ranks  he  had  been  violently 
assaulted  by  Cadet  Dillard  (let  us  say),  pursued  to  his 
room,  and  there  beaten  and  abused  until  he  made  his 
escape  and  flew  to  the  officer  in  charge  for  succor. 

Mr.  X.  sends  an  orderly  for  Cadet  Dillard,  who 
promptly  appears, — a  tall,  soldierly  Kentuckian.  “  You 

are  accused  of  having  assaulted  Cadet - on  breaking 

ranks.  What  have  you  to  say  ?” 

“  It  is  true,  sir.  I’m  sorry,  but  I  could  not  help  it. 
He  was  kicking  me  all  the  way  from  the  mess-hall.  He 
had  done  it  time  and  again,  and  at  last  I  lost  my  temper. 
He  ran  as  we  broke  ranks,  and  I  was  foolish  and  furious 
enough  to  follow  and  cuff  his  ears  for  him.  He  isn’t 
hurt,  sir,  half  as  much  as  I  am.”  (That  was  evident,  as 
Dillard  limped,  and - hadn’t  a  mark.) 

“Very  well,  Mr.  Dillard;  go  to  your  quarters  in  ar¬ 
rest.”  And  the  Kentuckian,  humiliated  in  the  very 
presence  of  his  tormentor  (Mr.  X.  uses  the  word  ad¬ 
visedly),  faces  about,  and  goes  direct  to  his  enforced 
confinement.  The  feeling  gained  ground  among  the 
cadets  at  that  time  that  the  institution  was  run  solely  in 
the  interest  of  the  colored  man,  and  that  Mr.  X.  was  a 
“  nigger  worshiper.” 

A  year  before  this  occurrence,  in  making  his  inspec¬ 
tion  of  the  cadets’  mess-hall  at  dinner-time,  Mr.  X. 
noticed  that  there  was  no  “  commandant  of  table”  among 
the  cadets  seated  with  the  gentleman  from  South  Caro¬ 
lina.  “  Where  is  Mr.  Hayden  ?”  (let  us  call  Jam)  asked 


8o 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


Mr.  X.  of  the  cadet  corporal  at  the  end  of  the  table. 
The  young  fellow  looked  embarrassed,  and  replied  that 
he  thought  he  was  somewhere  in  the  mess-hall. 

The  “  commandant  of  table”  was  a  cadet  lieutenant  of 
Company  “  A,”  that  to  which  the  colored  cadet  belonged, 
and  it  was  the  duty  of  this  young  officer  to  preserve 
order  at  his  table,  and  to  see  that  all  cadets  were  satis¬ 
factorily  supplied  with  the  rations  to  which  they  were 
equally  entitled.  Some  recent  newspaper  articles  had 
asserted  that  the  new  colored  cadet  was  starved,  de¬ 
liberately  deprived  of  food  and  drink,  and  so  the  “  officers 
in  charge”  were  constantly  hovering  about  his  table  to 
see  that  nothing  of  this  kind  could  happen.  Only  a  few 
days  before,  the  new  cadet  squads  had  been  broken  up 
and  their  members  distributed  among  the  company  tables. 
In  a  few  moments  Mr.  X.  came  upon  Cadet  Lieutenant 
Hayden  seated  at  a  table  in  another  part  of  the  hall,  and 
ordered  him  to  go  at  once  to  his  own  place. 

“  Mr.  X.,”  says  the  cadet,  respectfully,  but  in  evident 
excitement,  “  I  saw  the  superintendent  yesterday,  and  he 
promised  me  that  this  matter  should  be  settled,  so  that  I 
would  ?iot  have  to  sit  with  the  colored  cadet!' 

Probably  Cadet  Hayden  so  understood  the  superin¬ 
tendent,  but  it  made  no  difference  in  the  final  result. 
Mr.  X.  reported  the  dereliction  of  duty  to  the  command¬ 
ant  of  cadets,  and  that  night  at  parade  the  cadet  lieutenant 
was  shorn  of  his  sword,  plume,  sash,  and  gold  lace,  and 
returned  to  the  ranks  side  by  side  with  the  colored 
gentleman  near  whom  he  had  declined  to  sit  and  eat. 

Now,  Mr.  X.  liked  that  cadet;  furthermore,  Mr.  X. 
liked  some  young  ladies  who  also  liked  that  cadet,  and 
of  course,  when  this  affair  took  place,  there  were  several 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


8 1 


highly*  cultivated  dames  and  damsels  of  very  good  Repub¬ 
lican  parentage  or  connections  who  looked  askance  at 
Mr.  X.  from  that  time  forth  as  a  man  who  wanted  to 
make  “  their  Hayd”  sit  and  eat  with  a  low  negro. 

Many  a  good  laugh  have  we  had  when  roughing  it 
together  on  the  Yellowstone  (Hayden  and  X.  being  the 
we  in  question),  for,  whatever  may  have  been  the  disgust 
of  his  friends,  H.  was  too  good  a  soldier  not  to  know 
that  it  was  purely  a  matter  of  duty  on  X.’s  part. 

These  incidents  are  mentioned  merely  as  specimens  of 
the  efforts  made  to  enforce  the  rights  of  this  pioneer  of 
the  colored  race  at  the  Academy.  That  Mr.  X.  was 
thrown  more  constantly  into  disagreeable  relations  with 
somebody  or  other  in  consequence  of  the  principle  in¬ 
volved  was  simply  characteristic  of  the  ill  luck  which 
pursued  him.  He  it  was  who  most  frequently  unearthed 
such  lapses  of  discipline  and,  reporting  them,  secured  the 
punishment  of  the  cadet  and  the  undying  hatred  of  that 
cadet’s  friends. 

Such  letters  as  used  to  come  in  those  days !  Ku- 
Kluxism  was  then  in  its  heyday  in  the  South,  and  the 
vile,  misspelled,  profane,  obscene,  and  abusive  epistles 
that  were  constantly  received  by  the  commandant,  and 
frequently  by  Mr.  X.,the  gentle  reader  would  not  care  to 
see  in  print.  We  laughed  at  those  bristling  fulminations 
from  the  land  of  cane  and  cotton ;  but  every  now  and 
then  came  letters  from  men  of  education, — gentlemen 
who  propounded  a  series  of  questions, — who  wanted  to 
know  whether  we  did  not  think  we  were  teaching  that 
darky  to  believe  himself  a  heaven-born  superior.  Would 
we  really  introduce  him  to  our  own  wives  and  sisters? 
Admitting  his  political  rights,  was  it  wise  in  the  govern- 
/ 


82 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


ment  to  seek  to  educate  the  negro  to  a  position  of  com¬ 
mand  ?  etc.,  etc.  All  traps  to  “  draw  us  out.” 

It  was  easy  enough  to  answer  and  say  that  officers  at 
the  Academy  were  not  there  to  decide  whether  the  action 
of  the  government  was  wise  or  not,  and  that  so  long 
as  their  official  relations  towards  the  cadets,  white  or 
colored,  were  those  prescribed  by  law  and  regulations, 
their  personal  opinions  were  of  no  earthly  consequence 
to  any  one. 

But  swarms  of  people  kept  coming  to  the  Point  and 
poking  their  noses  into  everybody’s  affairs,  on  the  general 
plea  of  interesting  themselves  in  the  welfare  of  that 
colored  cadet.  Reporters  were  buzzing  about  the  post 
incessantly,  but  their  feats  of  impudence  and  mendacity 
would  require  a  volume.  Next  to  them  in  rank  as  nui¬ 
sances  came  the  strong-minded  women,  and  the  American 
editions  of  the  genus  Stiggins,  who  claimed  to  represent 
the  Methodist  or  Baptist  faith.  Somehow  or  other  Mr. 
X.  was  incessantly  detailed  to  meet  and  receive  these 
gentry,  the  members  of  the  Press,  Sorosis,  and  the  Pulpit, 
and  an  awful  life  they  led  him.  There  was  no  matter 
beneath  their  notice, — there  was  no  subject  into  which 
they  did  not  pry.  The  Academy  was  at  their  mercy 
now,  for  under  cover  of  the  interest  which  all  American 
citizens  were  supposed  to  be  taking  in  the  colored  cadet, 
these  harpies  of  modern  civilization  swooped  down  upon 
the  post,  and  even  the  personal  homes  of  the  officers’ 
families  were  invaded  by  them  in  their  hungry  curiosity. 
“  It  is  the  property  of  the  nation,  sir,”  as  one  ponderous 
divine  remarked,  “  and  the  public  demands  accurate 
information  as  to  its  internal  management.” 

Mr.  X.  tried  to  be  polite  to  the  reporters,  -some  of 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


83 


them  deserved  it  too, — and  generally,  after  showing  them 
over  the  post,  as  he  was  directed  by  his  superiors,  he 
offered  them  the  refreshments  of  the  mess.  One  day  he 
had  three  of  them  in  tow,  and  was  as  civil  as  could  be  to 
each  and  all.  Three  days  after,  the  superintendent  sent 
for  him,  and  proceeded  to  read  the  following  extracts : 

“  Through  the  courtesy  of  the  efficient  superintendent.  General - , 

your  commissioner  was  escorted  around  the  post,  taken  to  the  cadet  bar¬ 
racks,  and  very  hospitably  entertained  by  Lieutenant  X.,  a  young  officer 
of  marked  intelligence  and  ability,  who  seemed  eager  to  open  every 
avenue  of  information,  and  who  promptly  answered  all  inquiry  bearing 
upon  the  much-vexed  question  of  the  colored  cadet.  Subsequently, 
Lieutenant  X.  introduced  us  to  a  number  of  officers  stationed  at  the 
Point,  and  it  was  impossible  not  to  recognize  the  courtesy  of  manner 
which  distinguished  them,  and  the  utter  freedom  from  that  hauteur  and 
snobbishness  which  has  been  alleged  to  be  their  characteristic.” 

“  Now,  that’s  all  very  well,  Mr.  X.,”  said  the  chief; 
“  but  now  look  here ;  this  is  what  the  Moon  says 

“  The  superintendent  somewhat  gruffly  turned  us  over  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  a  beardless  stripling,  whom  he  introduced  as  Lieutenant  X.,  and 
who  lost  no  time  in  impressing  your  reporter  with  the  fact  that  to  strut  and 
swagger  in  a  tight-fitting  uniform  was  about  the  extent  of  the  information 
he  had  acquired  in  a  four  years’  schooling  at  the  nation’s  expense.  This 
pigmy  second  lieutenant  professed  to  believe  that  the  colored  cadet  had 
been  fairly  treated  by  the  officers,  but  was  unable  to  point  to  any  circum¬ 
stance  as  sustaining  his  argument ;  and  finding  it  impossible  to  extract 
any  useful  information  from  such  a  source,  your  reporter  desisted.  .  .  , 

“  Subsequently,  and  doubtless  with  the  hope  of  securing  the  favor¬ 
able  notice  of  the  Moon,  your  reporter  was  escorted  to  the  officers’  club- 
room,  where  a  party  of  consequential  young  dandies,  without  an 
unmortgaged  dollar  in  their  pockets,  were  regaling  themselves  with 
brandy-smashes  and  thirty-cent  Partagas.  No  wonder  justice  is  not  to  be 
obtained  for  the  scholars  chosen  by  the  voice  of  the  people  to  represent 
them  at  the  nation’s  academy,  when  its  instructors  are  selected  from  so 
vapid,  empty-headed,  and  bigoted  a  class  of  young  snobs.” 


84 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


“  What  did  you  do  to  offend  the  Moon  man,  Mr.  X.  ?  I 
thought  you  had  sense  enough  to  be  civil  to  these  d — d 
nuisances,”  says  the  superintendent. 

Mr.  X.  says  he  does  not  know  ;  the  three  of  them  were 
together,  and  he  treated  them  exactly  alike.  “  Better 
send  somebody  else  around  with  the  next  batch,”  he 
suggests. 

Two  days  after,  the  Moon  man  comes  up  again,  and  X. 
and  others  refuse  to  recognize  him,  whereupon  a  brother 
journalist  volunteers  this  explanation  :  “  We  are  not 
responsible  for  these  things;  what  we  come  here  for  is 
simply  the  facts  in  the  case,  then  when  we  get  back  we 
color  them  up  whichever  way  we  are  told.”  So  much  for 
the  reporters.. 

Of  the  swarm  of  visitors  then  attracted  to  the  Academy, 
it  may  be  said  that  they  were  guided  by  the  Press  as  to 
the  objects  of  interest  to  be  seen  at  West  Point.  Monu¬ 
ments,  trophies,  battle-flags,  the  pictures,  the  library  and 
museum,  the  lovely  scenery,  were  passed  over  with  dis¬ 
paraging  comment  and  blase  indifference, — a  new  order 
of  things  obtained  ;  and  as  a  result  of  constant  obser¬ 
vation,  Mr.  X.  is  able  to  state  that  among  all  the  parties 
whom  it  was  his  delight  and  privilege  to  show  around 
the  Point,  nine  out  of  ten  would  eagerly  desire  to  see, 
first,  the  colored  cadet ;  second,  Fred  Grant ;  after  that, 
anything  as  it  came  along. 

This  tendency  on  the  part  of  our  visitors  gave  rise  to 
some  harmless  pleasantries  on  the  part  of  their  military 
cicerones.  Cadet  Hayden,  aforementioned,  whose  dark 
complexion  rendered  plausible  coloring  to  the  deception, 
was  not  infrequently  pointed  out  by  his  comrades  as  the 
genuine  colored  cadet,  and  Fred  Grant  and  the  colored 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


gentleman  were  made  to  do  duty  for  one  another  a  dozen 
times.  “  You  see,”  explained  Lieutenant  Wag,  of  the 
engineers,  “  this  is  so  thoroughly  democratic  an  institu¬ 
tion  that  one  cadet  is  just  as  good  as  another,  and  I 
really  know  very  few  of  them  apart.”  To  allay  all 
possibility  of  acrimonious  criticism  on  the  part  of 
avowedly  strong  levelers  of  any  distinction  between 
races,  it  was  found  a  safe  and  soothing  expedient  to  point 
out  the  commanding  officer  at  parade,  or  else  the  drum- 
major,  when  the  customary  inquiry  came  for  the  colored 
cadet.  People  who  could  actually  go  away  and  say  they 
had  seen  the  despised  African  in  positions  of  absolute 
prominence  and  command  were  always  glad  to  do  so, 
provided  neither  themselves  nor  their  remotest  relations 
were  among  his  supposed  subordinates. 

One  rainy  morning  Mr.  X.  was  putting  the  first  class- 
men,  whose  graduation  was  near  at  hand,  through  a 
lively  exercise  in  the  riding-hall.  Bareback  and  with 
stirrups  crossed  the  cadets  were  leaping  their  horses  over 
hurdles,  and  slashing  at  leather  heads  with  their  sabres, 
to  the  nervous  admiration  of  numerous  visitors  in  the 
gallery.  Then  the  seniors  withdrew,  and  the  second 
classmen  appeared,  and  they,  too,  performed  various  feats 
in  equitation,  to  the  delight  of  the  lookers-on.  At  the 
close  of  the  second  drill,  as  Mr.  X.  was  leaving  the  hall, 
he  was  accosted  by  the  spokesman  of  a  large  party 
of  what  appeared  to  be  students  of  some  theological 
seminary.  The  spokesman  was  tall,  pompous,  gray- 
bearded,  and  impressive.  “  Sir,”  said  he,  while  he  pointed 
his  cane  square  at  his  victim,  and  his  satellites,  male  and 
female,  listened  in  wrapt  attention, — “sir,  permit  me  to 

detain  you  one  moment.  I  observed  that  the  colored 

8 


86 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


cadet  was  not  among  your  pupils  this  morning.  At  what 
time  does  he  receive  his  instruction  in  horsemanship?” 

“  Not  at  all  as  yet ;  he  is  only  a  fourth  class - ” 

“  I  thought  as  much  ;  I  said  as  much,”  broke  in  the 
spokesman,  while  his  flock  admiringly  held  their  breath 
and  watched  the  demolition  of  the  victim  with  all  apparent 
delight.  “You  exclude  this  young  man  from  participa¬ 
tion  in  equestrianism,  as  you  do  from  other  rights  too 
numerous  to  mention,  simply  on  account  of  his  color; 
and  yet,  I  suppose  you  consider  that  you  are  doing  your 
duty  as  an  instructor  at  the  Military  Academy,”  etc. 

Mr.  X.  was  allowed  no  opportunity  to  explain  that  not 
until  their  second  year  at  the  Academy  were  any  cadets 
instructed  in  riding.  The  ecclesiastic  had  the  floor,  and 
did  not  propose  to  yield  it  until  he  had  exhausted  the 
subject.  Life  and  temper  were  both  too  fleeting  to  stay 
and  listen.  Mr.  X.  beat  a  retreat. 

But  now  we  come  to  another  and  very  different  source 
of  tribulation.  Mr.  X.  approaches  the  subject  with  all 
diffidence,  if  indeed  that  diffidence  do  not  fall  short  of 
absolute  timidity.  In  all  the  time  he  was  on  duty  at  the 
Academy,  in  all  the  varied  experiences  there  encountered, 
there  was  one  trial  in  face  of  which  superintendent,  com¬ 
mandant,  the  academic  staff,  and  the  tactical  department 
shrank  in  common, — the  ambitious  mamma  of  an  only 
son,  that  son  being  a  cadet. 

Time  was  when  the  fact  of  being  the  only  son  of  a 
widowed  mother  was  valid  ground  for  exemption  from 
military  duty,  and,  in  the  light  of  events  herein  chronicled, 
Mr.  X.  declares  it  to  be  his  conviction  that  at  the  Mili¬ 
tary  Academy  it  should  constitute  absolute  ground  of 
exclusion. 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


3/ 


In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  that  solitary  chicken  of  the 
fussy  old  hen  has  been  petted,  spoiled,  and  pampered 
from  babyhood.  His  digestion  has  been  ruined  by  the 
sweets  and  lollipops  demanded  by  his  infantile  majesty 
and  all  too  readily  accorded  by  his  over-indulgent  parent ; 
his  frame  is  feeble  and  puny,  because  his  boyhood  has 
been  passed  on  the  periphery  described,  with  the  maternal 
apron-string  as  a  radius  ;  his  temper  and  disposition  are 
querulous,  exacting,  and  tyrannical.  He  has  known  no 
rough  schooling  among  boys  of  his  age ;  he  has  never 
learned  either  independence  or  self-denial ;  he  has  been 
reared,  the  tender,  sensitive  plant,  by  his  nurses  and  his 
mother,  whom  he  has  alternately  cajoled  and  bullied; 
and  yet  just  such  a  weakling  as  this  sometimes  takes  a 
notion  into  his  head  that  he  would  like  to  go  to  West 
Point  and  be  a  soldier.  Doubtless  there  is  a  scene  when 
he  announces  this  fact  to  mamma,  but  she  has  too  long 
been  accustomed  to  yielding  to  Sammy’s  every  whim, 
and,  after  a  few  days  of  tears  and  entreaties,  she  suc¬ 
cumbs.  Such  a  mother  is  never  without  influence  at 
Washington.  Pertinacity  will  accomplish  as  much  there 
as  elsewhere,  and  in  the  days  whereof  we  write  every 
year  brought  on  two  or  three  mother-escorted  boys  to 
take  their  initiation.  Generally  the  appointment  was 
wrung  from  a  reluctant  but  powerless  President.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  they  were  sure  to  arrive  every  June. 

Other  boys  came  sturdily  alone,  went  at  once  to  the 
adjutant’s  office,  reported,  and  were  turned  over  to  the 
commandant  of  new  cadets  for  drill ;  but  with  Sammy 
and  his  mamma  it  was  different,  and  they,  mind  you,  are 
merely  representatives  of  a  class.  They  go  to  the  hotel, 
from  which  point  madame  dispatches  a  bell-boy  with  her 


88 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


card  to  the  superintendent  and  other  officers,  for,  depend 
upon  it,  she  has  come  armed  with  letters  of  introduction 
to  half  a  score  of  them,  and  nothing  will  satisfy  her  but 
that  she  may  personally  present  her  aspiring  son  to  each 
and  every  one.  Nor  will  she  permit  him  to  “  report” 
until  this  ceremony  has  been  effected.  Then,  when  he 
does  go,  she  marches  protectingly  by  his  side,  and,  up  to 
the  very  moment  when  he  is  ushered  into  the  cadet  bar¬ 
racks,  never  leaves  him,  and  then  only  to  return  to  the 
hotel  to  plot  and  plan  for  his  interests.  Within  twenty- 
four  hours  she  has  succeeded  in  making  the  acquaintance 
of  every  man  and  woman  on  the  Point  who  can  have  the 
faintest  influence  over  Sammy’s  future  career  as  a  cadet. 
She  button-holes  the  commandant  with  long  stories  of 
the  heroic  deeds  of  Sammy’s  ancestors,  and  of  the 
passion  for  a  military  life  that  beset  him  from  earliest 
boyhood.  Somebody  remarks  that  the  boy  looks  pale 
and  feeble,  and  that  the  surgeons  may  reject  him,  where¬ 
upon  she  descends  upon  those  luckless  “  saw-bones” 
(with  letters),  and  besieges  them  individually  and  col¬ 
lectively  with  dissertations  upon  Sammy’s  superb  consti¬ 
tution, — “  never  had  a  sick  day  in  his  life,”  and  as  for  his 
muscular  development,  why,  Doctor  Hammond,  whom 
you  must  know,  has  always  said  it  was  marvelous  in  a 
boy  of  his  age,  etc.,  etc.  In  the  days  of  which  we  write 
it  was  the  custom  to  start  the  new  cadets  on  their  drill 
as  fast  as  they  arrived  ;  the  examinations  came  later,  and 
on  the  very  next  day  after  his  reception  at  barracks 
Sammy  made  his  appearance  in  a  brown  linen  jacket 
three  sizes  too  large  for  him,  and  a  squad  of  lusty 
youngsters,  fresh  from  the  farm,  whose  ruddy  faces  and 
clear  eyes  only  served  to  make  his  sallow  complexion 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


89 


look  the  more  ghastly  in  comparison.  Of  course  madame 
was  on  hand,  following  every  movement  of  that  squad, 
and  the  miseries  of  Sammy  when  undergoing  the  process 
of  “  setting  up”  were  too  much  for  her.  She  seized  upon 
the  officer  in  charge  with  voluble  protestations.  It  was 
a  shame  to  require  her  boy  to  go  through  such  gyrations ; 
he  had  been  drilled  all  his  life  ;  he  took  all  the  prize 
medals  at  Churchill’s  school,  and  the  Seventh  Regiment 
used  to  send  for  him  to  come  and  teach  their  companies — 
or  squads,  which  was  it  ?  it  was  hideous  to  make  him 
drill  with  those  hobbledehoys ;  he  was  perfectly  com¬ 
petent  to  take  his  place  at  once  among  the  old  cadets  at 
parade :  pointing  him  out  as  he  came  awkwardly  stum¬ 
bling  over  the  heels  of  his  front-rank  man  marching  down 
to  supper,  and  wondering  that  in  the  sallow,  hollow¬ 
cheeked,  and  hollow-chested  lad  no  one  seemed  to  detect 
the  latent  martial  heroism  of  which  she  so  volubly  assured 
them.  In  one  class  there  came  three  such  boys  with  three 
such  mothers,  and  then  there  was  a  little  relief,  for  they 
soon  grew  to  cordially  hate  one  another,  and  that  gave 
them  something  else  to  talk  about ;  but  ’tis  of  the  repre¬ 
sentative  madame  mere  we  are  speaking  now.  The  officer 
who  had  been  assigned  the  duty  of  superintending  new 
cadet  squad  drills  began  to  dread  the  rapidly-recurring 
hours  for  that  exercise.  She  was  sure  to  be  there,  to 
“  corral”  him  somewhere,  to  petition  for  Sammy’s  relief 
from  such  unnecessary  humiliation  as  to  have  to  drill 
with  a  lot  of  raw  boys.  Sammy  plainly  didn’t  like  it, 
and  between-times  was  to  be  seen  wandering  dismally 
about  the  Point  with  his  mamma,  pouring  his  plaint  into 
her  ready  ears.  Then  she  began  to  assail  the  commander 
on  the  subject.  It  was  in  vain  that  official  patiently 


90 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


/ 

/ 

I 

assured  her  that  no  cadet  ever  entered  West  Point,  much 
less  was  ever  graduated,  without  having  to  go  through 
the  same  rigorous  drill.  She  persisted  that  it  was  unne¬ 
cessary  with  Sammy, — “  he  was  the  very  best  scholar 
at  Peachlawn  Military  Academy,”  though  the  fact  was 
patent  to  all  who  cared  to  look  that  the  boy  was  slouchy, 
stooping,  and  awkward  in  the  last  degree :  he  seemed  to 
have  no  elasticity  whatever.  Then  madame  declared 
that  his  health  was  suffering  from  the  cruelty  and  severity 
of  his  cadet  drill-master,  and  called  attention  to  his  own 
pallor  and  the  cadet’s  flushed  countenance.  The  latter 
was  having  by  far  the  harder  time  of  the  two,  for 
“  Sammy’s”  stupidity  was  ruining  the  appearances  of 
his  squad  and  all  chance  for  corporalship.  Madame 
desired  to  have  her  boy  excused  then  on  the  ground  of 
ill  health,  and  had  well-nigh  succeeded,  when  it  was 
whispered  to  her,  malheureusement ,  that  this  would  lead 
to  his  being  declared  physically  disqualified  when  he 
came  up  for  examination  before  the  surgeons.  Realizing 
that  a  false  step  had  been  made,  madame  eagerly  sought 
acquaintance  with  the  surgeons,  and  pumped  them  full 
of  information  as  to  the  vigor  of  that  youngster’s  boy¬ 
hood,  explaining  that  he  had  never  known  a  sick  day 
(though  the  poor  fellow  subsequently  admitted  he  had 
been  well-nigh  raised  on  medicines),  and  that  his  droop 
and  pallor  were  due  entirely  to  mental  distress  at  being 
so  ignominiously  treated.  Sammy  got  through  after  a 
fashion ;  was  launched  into  the  troublous  sea  of  “  plebe” 
camp;  was  soon  recognized  as  an  out-and-out  “tender¬ 
foot;”  drills,  guard,  and  “police”  were  too  severe  for 
him.  Once  inside  the  lines,  he  was  safe,  and  now  madame 
developed  the  fact  that  from  babyhood  something  had 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


91 


been  the  matter  with  his  heart,  or  his  lungs, — or  was  it 
his  liver  ?  Sammy’s  longest  walks  were  to  the  hospital 
to  get  excused :  recognized  by  the  other  cadets  as  inva¬ 
lided,  he  was  let  alone,  and  his  heaviest  burden  was  the 
sick-book.  Through  his  Plebe  year  he  crawled  in  much 
the  same  fashion,  suffering  from  some  mysterious  malady 
when  it  came  his  turn  for  guard  duty,  refusing  the  solid 
fare  of  the  mess-hall  at  supper,  and  requiring  the  more 
dainty  dishes  to  be  had  at  “the  Dutchman’s.’’  Sammy 
was  generally  to  be  found  there  after  evening  parade,  but 
alone, — the  only  cadet  in  the  battalion,  probably,  who 
had  the  face  to  partake  of  Mrs.  Renner’s  good  cheer 
without  a  sharing  comrade.  Both  his  examinations  and 
his  examiners  were  superintended  by  madame,  whose 
tongue  by  this  time  was  known  and  feared  all  over  the 
vicinity.  Young  officers  whose  misfortune  it  was  to  have 
to  instruct  Sammy,  and,  as  a  consequence,  to  spur  him  at 
times  to  make  him  keep  pace  with  his  comrades,  began 
to  find  themselves  mysteriously  losing  ground  in  friend¬ 
ships  and  in  hitherto  cordial  relations  with  neighboring 
families.  Months  or  years  after,  in  many  cases,  the  ex¬ 
planation  was  given :  “  Well,  I  heard,  from  what  I  then 
considered  good  authority,  that  you  had  said,”  etc.,  etc. 
(needless  to  explain  that  there  was  a  lady  in  that  case). 
But  madame  was  a  ruthless  enemy.  Her  motto  was, 
“  Either  for  or  against  me,”  and  the  instructor  or  cadet 
who  was  not  in  some  way  actively  bolstering  up  the 
nerveless  cause  of  her  nondescript  was  handled  mer¬ 
cilessly  as  woman’s  tongue  and  ingenuity  could  devise. 
Why  was  it  that  Mr.  X.’s  company  was  the  one  of  the 
four  into  which  these  hen-governed  striplings  seemed  to 
fall  ?  Luck  ;  nothing  but  luck,  of  the  worst  kind.  Were 


92 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


he  to  live  a  thousand  years  he  could  never  forget  the 
scene  after  parade  the  bright  June  evening  when  the  cadet 
officers’  appointments  were  published,  and  Sammy’s  name 
was  not  among  them. 

“  Hell  (hath)  no  fury  like  a  woman  scorned,”  unless  it 
was  madame  when  some  twenty  young  gentlemen  of 
Sammy’s  class  were  decorated  with  corporal’s  chevrons, 
but  none  for  Sammy.  What  made  it  worse  was  that 
eight  of  the  twenty  had  been  chosen  from  Mr.  X.’s  com¬ 
pany.  Nearly  all  his  “  yearlings”  had  been  appointed, 
but  not  Sammy.  For  a  year  the  boy  had  gone  through 
such  duties  as  he  could  not  get  excused  from,  in  a  style 
more  dead  than  alive  :  he  was  always  dismal,  slow,  and, 
for  a  cadet,  slovenly ;  always  late  at  roll-calls,  sleeping 
through  reveille,  having  contraband  eatables  in  his  room, 
in  his  clothes-box,  candle-box,  or  up  the  chimney;  his 
belts  were  never  trim  and  fresh,  his  accoutrements  were 
always  dusty  or  shabby.  With  more  clothes  and  far 
more  money  than  his  companions,  he  never  succeeded 
in  imitating  their  trim,  soldierly,  faultless  dress  and 
carriage;  he  was  always  blundering  on  drill,  going  half 
asleep  on  parade,  and  twice  narrowly  escaped  being 
caught  asleep  on  guard ;  yet  the  blessed  mother-eye 
could  see  naught  but  perfection,  and  rage  was  in  her 
heart  and  malice  on  her  lips  when  she  saw  him  unap¬ 
pointed. 

“ May  I  ask,  sir,  upon  what  principle  you  select  your 
corporals?”  demanded  she  of  the  unhappy  Mr.  X.,  as 
that  young  officer  was  vainly  striving  to  dodge  past  her 
at  the  hotel  that  evening.  The  halls  were  swarming 
with  people,  and,  as  madame  had  already  been  ventilating 
her  opinions  on  the  subject  previous  to  his  arrival,  Mr. 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


93 


X.  found  that  a  dozen  or  more  maliciously  delighted 
listeners  were  gathered  within  ear-shot.  “  Perhaps,”  she 
continued,  not  waiting  for  his  reply, — “  perhaps  you 
would  have  us  understand  that  principle  doesn’t  enter 
into  the  matter  at  all.”  X.  humbly  protests  that  only 
the  superintendent  has  power  to  appoint,  and  that  she 
rmfcst  appeal  to  that  magnate  for  information ;  but  the 
device  is  too  transparent.  She  knows  well  enough  that 
the  recommendations  of  the  company  commanders  are 
the  basis  of  selection,  and  goes  on  with  her  tirade.  “  It 
is  time  the  War  Department  was  informed  of  the  out¬ 
rageous  system  of  favoritism  and  partiality  some  officers 
maintain  here.  I  suppose  you  would  have  had  your 
colored  protege  made  first  corporal, — ha-ha-ha !”  and 
with  a  fine  burst  of  derisive  laughter  she  sweeps  victori¬ 
ous  from  the  scene. 

“  Well,  X.,”  says  the  commandant,  cheerily,  next 
morning,  “  I  hear  the  panther  clawed  your  eyes  out  last 
night,”  and  all  the  tactical  department  joins  in  the  laugh 
at  the  junior’s  expense.  “All  right,  gentlemen,  laugh 
ahead,”  is  the  lugubrious  response ;  “  your  turn  will 
come.” 

But  it  did  not  seem  to.  Being  the  junior,  Mr.  X. 
found  that  it  fell  to  his  lot  to  have  unpleasant  duties 
thrust  upon  his  shoulders  which  the  seniors  objected  to, 
and  Sammy  was  not  the  only  mamma’s  boy  who  was 
handed  over  to  his  care.  Sammy  was  enough  of  a  trial, 
however, — when  taken  in  conjunction  with  the  Panther, 
— to  eclipse  all  others.  Once  a  third-class  man,  his 
career  of  contemptuous  disregard  for  regulations  fairly 
began.  Lates,  absences,  dirty  belts,  boots,  floors,  etc., 
rapidly  rolled  up  against  him,  and  many  a  time  did 


94 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


Mr.  X.  figure  as  reporting  officer.  “  He  is  persecuting 
my  boy  on  every  possible  occasion,”  said  the  Panther  to 
the  professors.  “  He  is  always  sneaking  around  to  catch 
him  at  something,  and  reporting  him  on  suspicion  if  he 
cannot,”  was  her  way  of  putting  it  to  the  ladies.  (Bless 
their  hearts!  they  always  told  Mr.  X.  of  it  for  fear  she 
would  say  it  to  him  herself.)  “  He  prowls  round  the 
barracks  at  midnight  when  gentlemen  are  asleep,  just  to 
see  if  he  cannot  get  an  excuse  to  inspect  Sammy’s 
room,”  was  another  allegation. 

Night  inspections  of  the  cadets’  rooms  were  required 
once  a  week,  at  least,  of  the  four  company  commanders, 
the  object  being  to  see  that  the  cadets  were  present,  that 
no  lights  were  burning  after  ten  o’clock,  that  no  cooking 
or  “visiting”  was  going  on.  Great  hands  the  cadets  were 
in  those  days  at  getting  up  contraband  suppers  in  their 
rooms,  stewing  oysters  or  “  hash”  over  the  gas,  and  spill¬ 
ing  the  unlawful  comestibles  in  greasy  confusion  on  the 
floors ;  and  of  all  such  accomplishments  Sammy  was  a 
tireless  exponent.  There  was  more  of  it  going  on  at  all 
times  in  his  room  than  anywhere  else.  “  He  could  not 
bear  the  coarse  food  of  the  mess-hall,”  mamma  explained, 
“  and  needed  the  delicacies  to  which  he  had  been  accus¬ 
tomed.”  So  it  often  happened  that  Sammy  was  caught 
in  flagrante  delicta  and  promptly  demerited.  There  was 
nothing  vicious  in  it,  per  se,  and  other  cadets  caught  in 
the  same  way  took  their  demerit  marks  and  three  or  four 
“  punishment  tours”  without  a  murmur;  but  this  Sammy 
declined  to  do.  Cadets  in  addition  to  their  “  demerits” 
were  awarded  by  the  superintendent  on  the  weekly 
punishment  list  two,  three,  or  four  “  extras,”  as  they  were 
called,  or  a  similar  number  of  confinements.  The  “  extra” 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


95 


was  a  nuisance.  On  Saturday  afternoons  at  two  o’clock 
all  cadets  awarded  that  punishment  appeared  equipped 
and  armed  as  sentinels,  and  each  was  assigned  a  post  or 
“  beat”  in  the  area  of  barracks,  up  and  down  which  he 
must  silently  walk  until  time  for  evening  parade, — some¬ 
times  four  hours.  X.  remembers  to  have  seen  as  many 
as  sixty  or  seventy  of  the  corps  so  disporting  themselves 
in  the  long  spring  afternoons,  and,  while  few  utterly 
escaped  them,  there  were  some  cadets  who  were  always 
there.  When  Sammy  had  tried  two  or  three  of  these 
and  still  had  a  dozen  to  “  walk  off,”  he  decided  that  the 
thing  was  an  imposition.  So  mamma’s  services  were 
called  into  requisition.  She  was  making  her  head-quar¬ 
ters  somewhere  around  New  York  just  then,  and  took 
to  coming  up  on  the  noon  train.  Then  Sammy  would 
get  a  permit  excusing  him  from  “  extra”  because  of  his 
mother’s  sudden  arrival,  she  having  to  go  back  in  the 
evening.  This  worked  well  for  a  fortnight,  but  between 
times  the  youth  was  rolling  up  more  of  them,  and  the 
commandant  called  the  superintendent’s  attention  to  the 
fact  that  while  other  cadets  were  serving  out  their  pun¬ 
ishments  Sammy  was  getting  off  scot  free ;  so  it  was 
ordered  that  when  excused  on  Saturday  he  should  walk 
Sunday  afternoon.  This  was  an  unchristian  barbarity 
that  no  mother  could  stand ;  there  were  a  number  of 
cadets  whose  array  of  punishment  “  kept  them  on”  both 
days,  but  the  Panther  was  up  in  arms  by  first  train  and 
interviewed  the  superintendent.  That  boy  “  had  been 
brought  up  in  the  shadow  of  the  church,  and  should  not 
be  forced  to  see  his  day  of  rest  turned  into  a  tread-mill,” 
she  argued;  “he  had  always  observed  it  as  a  holy  day.” 

The  superintendent  grimly  pointed  to  the  record  for 


96 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


a  Sunday  within  the  month  whereon  Sammy,  excused 
from  church  by  reason  of  headache,  had  worshiped  and 
glorified  by  tearing  around  the  resounding  halls  of  bar¬ 
racks  with  two  cavalry  sabres,  “  hived”  for  the  occasion, 
clattering  after  him,  and  making  the  peaceful  morning 
hideous  by  rolling  the  policeman’s  iron  buckets  down  the 
iron  stairways,  to  the  great  discomfiture  of  the  “  plebe” 
sentinel  on  the  lower  floor.  The  Panther  of  course 
declared  this  statement  to  be  a  malicious  invention  of 
Mr.  X.’s, — who  was  the  reporting  officer, — but  the  evi¬ 
dence  was  against  her.  She  left  in  some  discomfiture, 
but  in  no  wise  conquered.  Then  we  heard  of  her  in 
Washington,  and  pretty  soon  Sunday  extras  were  stopped ; 
but  the  superintendent  substituted  two  confinements  for 
each  extra.  A  cadet  confined  for  punishment  was  com¬ 
pelled  to  remain  in  his  room  from  2  p.m.  until  first  drum 
for  parade  on  Saturdays  or  Sundays.  All  Sammy’s  Sun¬ 
day  extras  being  converted  into  confinements,  placed  him 
on  the  list  of  victims  for  months  to  come,  with  a  number 
of  Saturday  punishments  still  to  walk  off  and  “  more 
a-coming.”  Finding  it  impossible  to  get  excused  before¬ 
hand  from  these  Saturday  tribulations  any  longer,  Sammy 
resorted  to  another  dodge.  He  would  take  his  post  at 
two  o’clock,  walk  till  2.30,  then  call  for  the  corporal  of 
the  guard  for  relief,  and  present  himself  pale  and  depressed 
to  the  officer  in  charge  for  permission  to  go  to  the  hos¬ 
pital  and  get  excused  as  too  ill  to  stand  it.  After  a  few 
successes,  this  game  was  blocked  by  the  order  that  a 
cadet  should  not  be  considered  as  having  served  his 
punishment  tour  unless  he  “  walked  off”  the  allotted 
number  of  hours. 

Spring  came,  and  mamma  with  it,  to  stay  a  while.  A 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


97 


room  had  been  set  apart  next  the  commandant’s  office, 
in  which  relations  of  cadets  could  see  them  during  study- 
hours  for  ten  minutes,  or  so,  on  making  their  wishes 
known  to  the  “  officer  in  charge,”  and  on  Saturdays  and 
Sundays  cadets  on  extra  or  confinement  were  allowed  to 
meet  relations  when  the  latter  arrived,  but  were  limited 
to  fifteen  minutes. 

One  balmy  Saturday  late  in  April,  Mr.  X.,  being  officer 
in  charge,  had  disposed  his  skirmish-line  of  extra  men 
in  the  area,  and  was  in  conversation  with  Captain  San¬ 
ford,  when  the  latter,  glancing  out  of  the  window  towards 
the  sally-port,  exclaimed,  “  Great  Scott !  X.,  you’re  in  for 
it, — here  comes  the  Panther.  Good-by,  old  fellow :  take 
care  of  yourself,”  and  was  off  like  a  shot.  Another 
minute,  and  the  orderly  ushered  in  madame,  majestic, 
formidable,  basket-laden.  “  I  wish  to  see  my  son  ;  the 
superintendent  has  deigned  to  grant  his  permission,  sir,” 
was  her  only  remark  to  Mr.  X.,  who  could  not  escape, 
but  now  went  to  give  the  necessary  orders  for  Sammy’s 
temporary  release.  When  the  fifteen  minutes  were  up  it 
was  necessary  to  send  a  messenger  to  remind  the  youth 
that  orders  were  orders.  X.  knew  that  if  he  did  it  there 
would  be  the  devil  to  pay,  but  his  instructions  were 
explicit.  Sammy  went  ruefully  back  to  his  post,  and 
madame  whisked  her  heavy  silks  past  the  cap-raising 
officer  in  charge  with  no  more  notice  than  a  glare ;  but 
didn’t  she  haul  his  unhappy  name  in  the  mire  for  all  time 
thereafter  ? 

It  was  Sammy’s  last  extra,  though.  Madame  never 
left  the  Point  until  she  had  succeeded  in  persuading  the 
surgeons  that  her  boy’s  health  absolutely  demanded  his 
release  from  such  punishment :  so  they  advised  that  his 
e  s  9 


98 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF- OFFICER. 


extras  be  changed  to  confinements,  and  they  were.  Then 
she  sailed  in  to  prove  that  he  was  suffering  for  lack  of 
exercise,  and  that  he  must  not  be  confined  to  his  room 
in  the  afternoons ;  but  the  authorities  held  that  if  he 
needed  exercise  he  ought  not  to  be  so  constantly  excused 
from  drills  as  he  was,  on  plea  of  headache,  and  the  con 
finements  stuck.  Then  madame  left  us  again  for  a  brief 
spell, — we  knew  not  whither  she  had  gone, — but  May 
was  then  with  us.  Sammy  and  his  classmates  were  wild 
with  excitement  over  the  near  approach  of  the  long- 
expected  ten  weeks’  furlough  to  which  those  who  had 
behaved  themselves  would  be  entitled  after  the  June 
examination,  and  we  prayed  that  she  might  not  return 
meantime.  But  she  did,  and  in  a  hurry  too. 

One  night  Sammy  was  missing.  An  inspection  at 
1 1  p.m.  revealed  the  fact  that  he  was  not  in  his  room,  nor 
did  his  room-mate  know  where  he  was.  According  to 
regulations,  the  cadet  officer  of  the  day  was  routed  out 
and  ordered  to  “  inspect  for  him  every  half-hour.”  This 
young  officer  in  the  performance  of  this  duty  was  com¬ 
pelled  to  sit  up  all  night,  and  was  swearing  mad  when, 
just  before  reveille,  Mr.  Sammy  sauntered  into  the  area 
of  barracks. 

“  Where  the  mischief  have  you  been,  Sam  ?  Don’t 
you  know  you’re  ‘  hived  absent’  ?  Here  I’ve  been  after 
you  ever  since  taps.” 

Sammy  turns  white,  for  he  knows  that  he  is  in  for  a 
scrape  this  time.  It  means  dismissal,  unless  he  can  say 
he  was  not  off  cadet  limits.  That  morning  at  nine  o’clock 
the  cadet  adjutant  was  seen  to  leave  the  commandant’s 
office,  go  to  his  own  quarters,  and  presently  reappear  in 
his  full  uniform,  with  plume,  sash,  and  sword.  Every 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


99- 


cadet  in  the  corps  knew  what  that  meant :  somebody  to 
be  placed  in  arrest.  The  adjutant  made  a  bee-line  for 
“  C”  Company’s  quarters.  His  sword  was  heard  clinking 
against  the  iron  stairs  up  to  the  third  floor,  a  door  opened 
and  closed,  then  the  sword  came  clinking  down  again. 
The  erect  cadet  figure  stalked  back  to  the  first  division, 
and  when  Bentz’s  bugle  summoned  the  sections  to  form 
for  second  recitation  at  9.30,  the  whole  battalion  knew 
that  Sammy  was  caged. 

Next  morning  the  commandant  was  summoned  over 
to  the  superintendent’s  office.  In  ten  minutes  he  returned 
to  his  quartette  of  assistants.  “  Well,  gentlemen,  Mrs. 

- has  come,  and,  X.,  you’ve  got  to  go  and  see  her. 

She's  waiting  for  you  at  the  hotel!' 


“  Was  there  a  man  dismayed  ? 
Not  though  the  soldier  knew 
Some  one  had  blunder’d. 
Theirs  not  to  make  reply, 
Theirs  not  to  reason  why, 
Theirs  but  to  do  and - ” 


X.  often  wondered  what  his  sensations  would  be  when 
ordered  to  charge  a  battery.  He  thinks  it  a  bagatelle  to 
such  duty  as  was  assigned  him,  and  so  sought  to  tem¬ 
porize.  Hadn’t  he  been  thrust  into  this  particular  im¬ 
minent  deadly  breach  as  often  as  was  his  due  ?  Wasn’t 
it  some  one  else’s  turn  ?  “  Perhaps  so,”  says  the  command¬ 
ant,  “  but,  you  see,  she  got  Sammy’s  telegram  yesterday, 
— she  has  just  arrived,  too  much  prostrated,  she  says,  to 
come  to  the  superintendent,  and  he  won’t  go.  In  fact — 
hang  it !  X. — the  boy’s  in  your  company,  and  you’ve  got 
to  go  and  explain  the  matter  to  her  ” 


IOO 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


X.  goes  on  his  mission  with  sinking  heart.  Half-way 
up  to  the  hotel  he  catches  sight  of  the  prostrated  lady 
marching  up  and  down  the  piazza.  As  he  enters  the 
inclosure  she  faces  him  and  halts  ( horresco  ref  evens  !  I  see 
her  yet)  :  his  face  is  pale  with  dismay,  hers  with  pent-up 
wrath.  A  crowd  of  curious  visitors  is  idling  about  the 
porticoes,  and  madame  sweeps  forward  like  a  Meg  Mer- 

rilies  in  black.  “  Good-morning,  Mrs. - ,”  falters  poor 

X.  “  Good-morning,  sir,  indeed !  What  have  you  done 
to  my  boy  ?” 

Ah  well !  Years  have  rolled  by  since  then,  and  no 
especial  pleasure  is  to  be  derived  from  this  reminiscence. 
Mr.  X.  decides  to  dismiss  it  with  the  brief  conclusion 
that,  odd  as  it  may  appear  to  those  who  have  worn  the 
cadet  gray,  our  Sammy  escaped  without  court-martial. 
Nothing  could  exceed  the  energy,  vim,  and  final  success 
of  that  indomitable  woman.  For  three  days  and  nights 
she  flew  back  and  forth  between  the  Point  and  Wash¬ 
ington.  Then  it  transpired  that  Sammy  had  been  guilty 
of  no  unavoidable  breach  of  discipline, — the  poor  boy 
had  been  suffering  from  an  attack  of  palpitation,  or  pa¬ 
ralysis,  or  something  of  the  heart.  The  night  was  hot 
and  sultry,  not  a  breath  of  air  stirring,  and  so,  unable  to  . 
sleep  in  barracks,  “  he  had  wandered  out  on  the  plain 
and  spent  a  wretched  night  in  pacing  to  and  fro,”  all  of 
which  with  much  earnestness  and  volubility  madame  had 
repeated  again  and  again  to  every  one  in  authority,  and 
with  telling  effect.  Sam  wrote  an  explanation  setting 
forth  that  he  had  not  been  off  “cadet  limits,”  but  vouch¬ 
safed  no  further  remark ;  all  that  was  left  to  mamma. 
Some  comment  was  excited  by  the  fact  that  he  had  not 
gone  to  the  hospital,  his  invariable  resort  at  such,  and 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


IOI 


many  other,  times,  as  also  by  the  spontaneous  reply  of 
the  cavalry  sentinels  when  questioned  the  next  day  that 
none  of  them  had  seen  anything  of  any  cadet  on  the 
plain  that  night.  But  shortly  after  madame’s  arrival  she 
was  informed  of  this  statement  of  the  sentinels,  and 
within  ten  hours  Privates  Kelly  and  Mulligan  remem¬ 
bered  that  as  they  were  coming  home  on  pass,  about 
midnight,  they  saw  a  cadet  leaning  against  a  tree  over 
near  the  flag-staff,  apparently  sick,  and  McFadden,  of  the 
second  relief,  come  to  think  of  it,  saw  a  young  feller  in 
the  old  mortar-battery  sitting  there  two  hours  nearly. 
The  case  was  decided  in  Washington  before  it  was  fairly 
opened  at  the  Point,  and,  unless  it  was  Mr.  X.,  nobody 
suffered.  Indeed,  as  the  Panther  fiercely  assured  the 
denizens  of  the  Academy,  “  The  thing  never  would  have 
occurred  at  all  if  it  hadn’t  been  for  that  horrid  little 
martinet,”  which  every  mother,  except  one,  accepted, 
doubtless,  as  gospel  truth. 

As  Mr.  X.  previously  remarked,  madame  was  only  the 
type  of  a  class.  We  had  many  very  like  her,  though 
not  quite  so  bad.  Sammy’s  mother  was  the  acknowl¬ 
edged  leader  of  the  lot,  and  she  was  the  terror  of  the  post. 
The  mere  announcement  of  her  arrival  at  the  hotel  was 
sometimes  sufficient  to  cause  the  superintendent  to  take 
to  his  bed,  and  the  post-surgeon  to  betake  himself  to 
New  York,  for  the  latter  was  a  martyr  to  her  intermina¬ 
ble  harangues  about  that  delicate  chest,  or  throat,  or 
something  or  other  with  which  her  bantling  was  afflicted, 
and  by  reason  of  which  he  should  be  excused  from  duty. 
Once  the  junior  doctor  had  the  temerity  to  suggest  that 
as  Sammy  was,  according  to  her  account,  such  a  physi¬ 
cal  wreck,  it  would  be  impossible  for  the  medical  board 

9* 


102 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFTCER. 


to  “  pass”  him  on  his  graduation ;  but  it  was  the  most 
unhappy  remark  “  Squills”  ever  ventured,  for  he  had 
bearded  a  lioness  in  her  den,  yea,  even  in  the  defense  of 
her  sickly  cub,  and  ere  long  his  life  was  made  a  burden 
to  him,  and  his  reputation,  personally  and  professionally, 
began  mysteriously  to  run  down-hill. 

Thackeray  makes  old  Major  Pendennis  hold  to  the 
creed  of  never  trusting,  above  all,  never  offending  a 
woman,  and  Mr.  X.  strove  in  solemn  earnest  not  to 
offend  this  one,  but  all  to  no  purpose ;  he  was  a  repre¬ 
sentative  of  the  tyrannical  and  outrageous  system  by 
which  Sammy  was  brought  to  punishment,  and  so — fell 
under  the  ban.  It  would  be  useless  to  describe  here  the 
ingenuity  with  which  she  pursued  him,  or  the  scrapes  in 
which  he  became  involved.  Years  have  elapsed  since 
then.  Requies^rttf  in  pace. 

Soon  after  our  pioneer  African’s  admission  to  the 
Academy  a  change  had  taken  place  in  the  position  of 
commandant  of  cadets.  Our  genial  old  Harry,  after  five 
years  of  valuable  service,  had  been  relieved,  and  the 
summer  of  1870  brought  with  it  the  new  incumbent.  We 
were  in  camp  when  he  arrived,  and  he  was  soon  domi¬ 
ciled  in  our  midst,  as  much  at  home  as  though  he  had 
been  among  us  for  a  year.  Professionally,  and  by  name, 
he  was  known  to  every  soldier,  regular  or  State  guards¬ 
man,  throughout  the  United  States.  Personally,  he  had 
but  slight  acquaintance  with  the  officers  of  the  tactical 
department,  only  the  senior  and  junior  having  ever  met 
him  before.  Mr.  X.  is  well  aware  that  now  he  diverges 
far  from  the  original  channel  of  these  articles,  and  that 
what  follows  is  in  no  way  appropriate  to  the  title,  but, 
writing  of  West  Point  in  and  after  1870,  he  can  think  of 


AT  WEST  POINT.  IO3 

nothing  without  thinking  of  Upton,  and,  thinking  of  him, 
it  is  hard  not  to  write. 

It  was  in  1866  that  X.  first  knew  him  :  the  general  was 
then  at  West  Point  busy  with  the  preparation  of  his  first 
system  of  tactics,  and  X.,  a  young  enthusiast  on  such 
subjects,  living  close  to  him  in  the  “  officers’  angle”  of 
barracks,  was  accustomed  to  spend  many  an  hour  listen¬ 
ing  to  the  exposition  of  his  plans.  He  had  not  known 
the  general  a  week  before  the  conviction  dawned  upon 
him  that  Upton  possessed  three  characteristics  to  an 
almost  abnormal  extent, — frankness,  nervous  energy, 
and  tireless  application.  The  close  acquaintance  and 
friendship  that  followed  years  afterwards  served  only  to 
strengthen  that  conviction.  He  came  to  us  in  deep 
mourning  in  1870;  the  recent  death  of  his  dearly-loved 
wife  had  thrown  a  pall  over  his  life  and  hope,  but  it  was 
evident  that  he  had  determined  so  to  environ  himself 
with  incessant  occupation  as  to  crush  out  any  possibility 
of  morbid  mourning.  He  was  even  gentler,  more  sub¬ 
dued  in  manner  than  when  X.  knew  him  four  years 
before,  and  though  the  winning  smile  was  rarer  by  far,  it 
was  none  the  less  kindly  and  genial  when  it  came.  Up¬ 
ton’s  smile  was  something  that  in  all  these  long  years 
of  separation  X.  has  never  forgotten.  His  eyes  were 
fully  as  much  involved  as  the  firm  mouth  under  its  heavy 
moustache ;  indeed,  Upton’s  eyes  were  more  indicative 
of  his  mood  than  the  mouth,  for  that  was  almost  hidden. 

The  first  thing  the  corps  of  cadets  discovered  with 
reference  to  Upton  was  that  he  was  desperately  in  earnest. 
He  detected  a  certain  element  of  “  slouchiness”  among 
the  upper  class  men,  and  set  to  work  to  crush  it  out. 
X.  well  remembers  the  horror  and  indignation  with 


104  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

which  certain  first  class  men  received  the  order  to  attend 
“  setting-up”  drill  until  they  could  learn  to  carry  them¬ 
selves  erect.  Some  begged  permission  to  remonstrate 
with  their  new  commandant,  but  they  might  as  well  have 
talked  to  the  statue  of  Sedgwick.  In  ten  days  the  corps 
had  settled  down  to  the  dismal  realization  that  here  was 
a  man  over  whom  they  “  couldn't  come  it”  in  the  least. 

X.  had  served  under  and  known  several  commandants, 
but  none  like  Upton.  He  was  by  long  odds  the  strictest 
and  most  exacting.  He  was  the  firmest  in  his  convic¬ 
tions  and  the  most  immovable  in  his  decisions.  Once 
determined  on  a  certain  move  he  would  carry  it  through, 
even  at  times  when  he  knew  that,  had  he  to  do  it  over 
again,  his  course  would  have  been  different.  He  was 
never  disheartened,  never  out  of  patience,  and  X.  never 
saw  him  out  of  temper.  Being  in  mourning  that  first 
summer,  the  general  rarely  went  anywhere,  and  spent  his 
evenings  in  camp.  It  so  happened  that  X.  too  was 
something  of  a  hermit  then,  and  in  this  way  they  were 
thrown  together;  acquaintance  ripened  into  friendship, 
and  that  continued  until  the  rude  disruption  at  the  hand 
of  death  that  came  this  spring.  X.  turns  sadly  enough 
to  his  huge  scrap-book,  wherein  grouped  together  are  a 
number  of  letters,  some  of  this  very  year,  in  the  utterly 
indescribable  chirography  of  the  general, — Rufus  Choate 
hardly  wrote  a  hand  more  unpicturesque, — and  there  too 
is  a  heavy  envelope  bearing  his  superscription  and  ad¬ 
dressed  to  the  Presidio,  across  which  are  the  simple 
words,  “Too  late.”  All  last  winter  (1880-81)  we  had 
been  in  correspondence  about  the  revision, — the  revision 
that  now  will  never  trouble  him  more. 

After  camp  was  over  and  Mr.  X.  with  the  battalion 


AT  WEST  TOINT. 


105 


moved  into  barracks,  the  general  filled  his  house  with 
company,  relatives  of  his  wife  and  their  friends,  and  so 
it  happened  that  he  was  often  compelled  to  give  up  his 
own  room.  Many  and  many  a  night  in  the  winter  of 
1870  and  1871  has  he  appeared  at  X.’s  rooms  in  the 
angle,  where  his  bed  was  always  ready  for  him.  That 
was  his  harbor  of  refuge  when  crowded  out  by  his  own 
hospitality ;  and  here  it  was  that  the  friendship  ripened 
almost  into  intimacy.  The  first  night  he  came  was  but 
the  pattern  of  all  that  followed.  We  talked  for  half 
an  hour  or  so,  then  Upton  quietly  arose,  took  from  his 
breast-pocket  a  small  Bible,  seated  himself  near  the  lamp 
and  read  in  silence  awhile,  and  then  when  ready  for  bed 
he  knelt  in  prayer,  and  continued  on  his  knees  a  long 
time.  In  all  the  nights  he  spent  with  X.  this  was  never 
neglected,  for  Upton  was  as  fervent  and  earnest  in  his 
faith  as  he  was  in  every  detail  of  his  duty. 

The  corps  did  not  like  him.  Cadets  seldom  do  like  an 
officer  who  is  thorough  in  the  performance  of  his  duty. 
The  graceless  young  scamps  dubbed  him  “  the  Christian 
soldier,”  as  though  there  were  a  possibility  of  reproach 
in  the  combination  of  terms,  and  taxed  their  brains  to 
invent  doggerel  rhymes  at  his  expense,  which  they  sang 
when  they  thought  he  could  hear  them  and  not  detect 
the  singers  ;  but  of  all  this  buffoonery  Upton  was  to  all 
appearance  serenely  unconscious,  no  word  or  sign  ever 
betrayed  that  he  even  heard  the  words.  There  were 
certain  cadet  traditions  and  customs  that  had  existed  in 
his  day,  and  in  1870  still  obtained  in  the  corps,  against 
which  he  declared  vigorous  war,  and  thereby  intensified 
the  feeling  against  him  among  the  cadets.  They  could 
not  but  respect  him,  he  was  so  fair,  square,  and  utterly 


io 6 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


impartial,  but  they  disliked  him  all  the  same  for  his  re¬ 
lentless  discipline.  Upton  knew  this  perfectly  well,  and 
never  made  the  faintest  change  or  concession  to  alter  the 
sentiment.  He  was  as  strong  and  independent  a  man  as 
ever  lived,  and,  whether  among  the  cadets  or  his  officers, 
unswerving  in  the  enforcement  of  regulations. 

There  was  only  one  point  in  his  mental  armor  that  did 
not  seem  absolutely  impervious.  Allusion  has  been  made 
to  the  fact  that  he  ordered  all  cadets,  from  first  class  men 
down,  who  were  not  erect  and  soldierly  in  carriage  to 
attend  setting-up  drill,  and  Upton  himself  was  not  erect. 
There  was  a  decided  roundness  of  back  between  the 
shoulders  that  gave  him  almost  the  appearance  of  being 
stoop-shouldered,  a  fact  quickly  seized  upon  and  exag¬ 
gerated  by  the  cadets.  In  those  days  he  was  thin  and 
spare,  and  his  face,  deeply  lined  and  seamed,  was  soldierly 
in  the  last  degree,  but  the  moment  he  rose  to  his  feet  the 
defect  in  his  back  and  shoulders  became  apparent,  and 
he  knew  it.  On  horseback  it  was  worse  yet.  Upton  was 
what  is  called  a  loose  rider;  he  used  one  of  the  huge 
saddles,  with  schabraque  and  housings  such  as  were 
affected  by  the  general  officers  during  the  late  war,  and 
“  rode  over  the  pommel."  Bending  way  forward  as  he 
did,  the  stoop  of  the  shoulders  was  exaggerated,  and  he 
never  appeared  to  so  little  advantage  as  when  in  the 
saddle.  Whether  his  wounds  were  the  cause  of  this  or 
whether  the  defect  was  constitutional  X.  never  knew,  but 
that  Upton  was  conscious  of  it  he  feels  convinced,  be¬ 
cause  the  general  told  him  he  knew  it,  and  that  the 
general  was  sensitive  about  it  he  feels  assured,  because 
the  general  spoke  to  him  of  it  frequently. 

Speaking  of  his  wounds  reminds  X.  that  in  the  whole 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


107 


time  he  knew  Upton  he  never  once  heard  him  allude  to 
them,  and  only  once  or  twice  did  he  ever  mention  his 
service  in  the  field.  Once  X.  asked  him  about  his  cele¬ 
brated  charge  at  Spottsylvania  on  the  loth  of  May,  when 
with  twelve  picked  regiments  he  pierced  the  rebel  centre 
and  captured  the  guns  in  his  front.  Said  Upton,  “  Well, 
that  day  I  called  up  the  officers  and  told  them  that  from 
the  moment  we  started  I  wanted  to  hear  not  a  word  from 
any  one  of  them  except  ‘  forward  !  forward  !’  ”  but  Upton 
never  could  be  got  to  say  what  he  thought  of  Mott’s 
failure  to  support  him. 

We  had  frequent  visitors  that  summer  ;  lots  of  men  of 
our  service  came  up,  and  occasionally  they  were  officers 
of  about  Upton’s  time  as  cadet.  One  incident,  as  illus¬ 
trative  of  his  modesty  or  indifference,  X.  will  never 
forget.  The  commandant’s  tent  was  a  great  place  for 
fighting  battles  o’er  again,  though  he  himself  rarely,  if 
ever,  could  be  induced  to  speak  of  his  own.  One  day 
six  or  eight  of  us  were  gathered  there,  and  the  floor  was 
held  by  one  of  those  blatant  gentlemen  who,  having 
graduated  before  the  war  (and  in  this  instance  before 
Upton),  and  having  had  just  as  good  a  chance  as  the 
gallant  band  of  ambitious  young  lieutenants  who  rose 
to  be  generals,  had  preferred  the  safety,  ease,  and  slow 
promotion  of  mustering  and  disbursing  duty,  and  whose 
only  brevet  was  for  the  farcical  service  of  the  “  recruit¬ 
ment  of  the  armies  of  the  United  States.” 

For  some  reason,  or  other  gentlemen  of  this  stamp 
always  found  it  necessary  to  talk  more  loudly  about  the 
war  and  to  be  more  savagely  critical  in  their  remarks 
than  the  fellows  who  had  been  all  through  it,  and  also 
there  was  a  strong  tendency  on  their  part  to  disparage 


io8 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


the  services  of  the  successful  men,  and  attribute  the  pro¬ 
motion  over  their  heads  of  such  soldiers  as  Mackenzie, 
Upton,  Merritt,  Custer,  Webb,  and  the  like  to  political 

influence.  So  Major - was  holding  forth  this  day 

about  luck  in  the  line,  and  the  rest  of  us  were  sitting 
around  listening  rather  disgustedly,  when  he  startled  us 
with  this : 

“  Well,  now,  Upton’s  another  instance.  Of  course,  I 
don’t  mean  to  say  but  what  you  fought  all  right  when 
you  got  a  chance,  Upton,  but  you  won’t  deny  that  there 
were  fellows  who  went  through  the  whole  war  with 
the  regulars,  stuck  to  their  regiments  or  batteries,  got 
wounded  time  and  again,  and  only  got  a  brevet ;  but  here 
you  are  a  lieutenant-colonel  and  never  got  a  scratch  /” 

Considering  the  fact  that  Upton  had  been  wounded 
three  times  in  three  different  engagements,  he  might  have 
been  excused  for  a  pointed  reply,  but  he  only  smiled 
quietly,  as  he  sat  writing  at  his  desk,  and  said,  “Well, 

- ,  there  are  lots  of  men  who  think  just  as  you  do 

I’ve  no  doubt.” 

Where  that  colored  cadet  was  concerned  Upton  did 
even  more  than  his  whole  duty.  He  considered  that  the 
integrity  of  the  Academy  was  involved  in  the  experiment, 
and  was  determined  to  see  that  the  unprepossessing 
South  Carolinian  had  fair  play.  All  through  that  long 
academic  year  of  1870  and  1871  he  was  incessantly  on 
the  alert,  the  faintest  complaint  of  the  darky  led  to 
immediate  and  thorough  investigation,  even  though  pre¬ 
vious  experiences  had  established  the  fact  that  he  was 
an  outrageous  liar,  and  we,  the  commandant’s  assistants, 
were  held  to  a  rigid  accountability  in  all  matters  relating 
to  the  gentleman  of  color  during  our  tours  as  officer  in 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


IO9 


charge.  One  afternoon  late  in  the  fall  of  1 872,  in  speaking 
of  the  matter,  the  general  suddenly  exclaimed,  “  Do  you 
know,  X.,  I’m  beginning  to  believe  that  the  trouble  with 
that  darky  is  that  we’ve  made  altogether  too  much  of 
him  ?”  and  therein  the  general  had  hit  the  nail  upon  the 
head. 

And  yet  there  was  an  occasion  on  which  the  gentle¬ 
man  from  South  Carolina  had  been  roughly  handled,  and, 
had  it  been  allowed  to  leak  out  at  the  time,  no  doubt  the 
magniloquent  press  of  the  country  would  have  expanded 
the  affair  into  the  longed-for  outrage,  but  it  didn’t  leak 
out.  Mr.  X.  believes  at  this  day  that  when  the  thing 
happened  only  three  persons  were  cognizant  of  the  facts 
in  the  case:  1st,  the  colored  cadet  himself;  2d,  an  ad¬ 
mirable  and  most  efficient  officer  then  on  duty  at  the 
Academy ;  and,  3d,  Mr.  X.  The  first  named  never  saw 
fit  to  allude  to  it,  probably  because  he  had  the  deep 
sagacity  to  know  that  here  at  least  he  could  not,  even  by 
implication,  charge  the  assault  upon  a  cadet,  and  because 
the  facts  in  the  case  would  hold  him  up  to  deserved  scorn 
and  derision ;  and  as  for  the  two  officers,  the  first  may  or 
may  not  have  mentioned  it  to  other  friends  besides  Mr. 
X.,  but  not  until  long  after  did  the  latter  speak  of  it  to 
anybody. 

It  happened  in  this  way.  One  bitter  night  in  February, 
1871,  when  the  thermometer  was  away  below  zero,  the 
sudden  alarm  of  the  long  roll  from  the  guard-house 
tumbled  the  battalion  of  cadets  out  of  their  beds  and 
into  their  ever-ready  “  reveilles.”*  Those  members  of 


*  A  term  given  by  cadets  to  the  old  uniforms  and  loose  easy  shoes 
into  which  they  jump  just  in  time  for  the  early  morning  roll-call. 

10 


no 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


“  B”  and  “  C  ”  companies  living  on  the  third  and  fourth 
floors  found  themselves  almost  suffocated  by  a  thick 
'  stifling  smoke,  and  Mr.  X.,  tearing  down  the  iron  stairs 
six  at  a  leap,  found  the  area  of  barracks  a  broad  sheet  of 
light,  and  the  whole  “  Dialectic”  Hall  in  the  very  middle 
of  the  barracks  a  mass  of  flames.  We  had  the  old  Phila¬ 
delphia  double-decker  out  in  a  few  seconds  and  a  stream 
into  the  south  window,  while  the  Cadet  Hook  and  Ladder 
Company  ran  its  light  scaling-ladders  from  the  roof  of 
the  barrack  porch  to  the  windows  above  and  brought 
down  the  young  fellows  who  could  not  make  their  way 
through  the  smoke ;  none  too  soon  either,  for  in  three 
minutes  the  flames  were  raging  along  right  and  left 
through  the  fourth  story,  and  eating  their  way  with  in¬ 
credible  fury  and  rapidity  over  the  entire  length  of  the 
barracks.  That  was  a  dismal  night.  Dozens  of  the 
corps  had  escaped  with  only  the  clothing  they  could 
seize  at  the  moment :  all  were  soon  coated  with  ice. 
Every  man  had  his  appropriate  duties  to  perform,  either 
on  the  brakes  of  the  hand-engines,  manning  the  hose 
lines  of  the  steamers,  or  the  ladders,  or  bucket  lines  ;  few 
had  gloves,  many  only  their  shell-jackets,  but  all  along 
until  broad  daylight  those  plucky  boys  toiled  unflinch- 
ingly;  wet,  frozen,  scorched,  smoke-blinded  by  turns, 
every  man  was  at  his  post,  and  the  chief  engineer  of  the 
department  as  then  organized  at  West  Point  smiled 
grimly,  as  he  stood  with  Upton  directing  the  streams  in 
the  glare  of  the  flames  at  the  angle,  when  the  general 
said,  “  Who  wouldn’t  be  proud  of  the  corps  of  cadets 
if  he  could  see  them  to-night  ?” 

And  yet  there  was  a  shirk.  With  the  exception  of 
certain  picked  men  who  belonged  to  the  “  crack”  hose 


AT  WEST  POINT. 


Ill 


company,  then  commanded  by  Cadet  Captain  Wetmore, 
and  including  among  its  pipe-men  such  adventurous 
spirits  as  “  Tony”  Rucker,  Davenport,  and  Birney,  all  the 
u  A”  company  cadets  belonged  to  the  hand-engine,  and 
had  worked  manfully  at  the  brakes  until  the  freezing  of 
the  valves  had  rendered  their  machine  useless,  when 
their  first  sergeant  called  them  off,  and  their  officers 
formed  them  into  bucket  lines  up  the  halls  of  barracks. 
Then  it  was  that  the  word  began  to  be  passed,  “  Where’s 
the  nigger?”  No  other  cadet  was  missing, — he  was 
known  to  be  safe,  for  he  lived  on  the  ground-floor,  and 
early  in  the  fight  had  been  seen  completely  equipped  in 
overcoat,  arctics,  gloves,  and  even  ear-mufflers,  a  marked 
contrast  to  the  majority  of  his  white  comrades,  who, 
having  turned  out  in  the  first  things  they  could  lay  their 
hands  on,  seemed  to  scorn  any  addition  until  they  had 
that  fire  under  control.  It  was  about  two  o’clock  when 
the  alarm  sounded,  and  from  that  time  until  somewhere 
about  five  not  a  soul  had  seen  him.  The  chief  engineer, 
moving  from  point  to  point,  noting  the  work  of  his  men 
and  “  verifying  their  presence,”  called  upon  the  soldierly 
cadet  captain  of  Company  “  A”  for  his  report.  “  Every 
man  present,  sir,  and  at  his  post  except  the  n — except 
Mr.  Smith, ’’was  the  reply,  and  then  it  seems  that  the  chief 
muttered  something  uncomplimentary  to  the  African, 
and  went  off  about  his  business.  But  another  officer 
hearing  of  the  matter,  and  being  a  fellow  who  could 
stand  no  nonsense,  bethought  himself  of  the  fact  that 
not  fifty  yards  away  lay  the  gymnasium,  cozily  warmed 
by  steam  and  softly  saw-dusted  as  to  its  floor.  He  said 
nothing,  but  repaired  thither  at  once  ;  the  door  was  closed 
but  unlocked  ;  he  opened  it  and  quietly  entered.  All  was 


1 12 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


dark  and  still  save  where  a  faint  hissing  in  a  far  corner 
indicated  the  location  of  the  steam-coil,  and  to  that 
corner  he  groped  his  way,  stumbled  over  something 
curled  up  close  to  the  heater,  bent  down  and  lifted  that 
something  gently  but  firmly  by  the  ear,  calmly  escorted 
that  something  (by  the  same  means)  to  the  door,  and 
then  with  one  vigorous  kick  vis  a  tergo  sent  the  colored 
cadet  flying  out  into  the  area  of  barracks,  and  for  once, 
anyhow,  justice  was  done  the  pioneer  of  his  race  at  the 
military  academy  of  the  nation. 

In  the  light  of  the  intense  satisfaction  he  derived  from 
hearing  of  this  incident  the  Radical  Republican,  Mr.  X., 
forgot  that  there  were  such  things  as  tribulations  for 
officers  at  West  Point.  He  may  not  have  related  the 
outrage  just  as  it  occurred,  but  as  he  remembers  it  after 
this  lapse  of  years,  and  with  its  recital  gladly  brings  this 
paper  to  a  close. 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT. 


113 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT  TO  THF 

NATIONAL  GUARD. 

The  riot  alarm  struck  just  at  8.45  as  Mr.  X.  was 
trudging  his  way  down  to  the  armory.  Late  as  mid¬ 
night  there  had  been  a  conference.  The  mayor,  the 
sheriff,  the  governor  of  the  State,  the  general  manager 
of  the  biggest  railway  of  the  Northwest,  the  adjutant- 
general  of  the  State, — one  of  the  finest  soldiers  it  has 
ever  been  Mr.  X.’s  lot  to  be  associated  with,  and  of 
whom  he  wrote  in  a  previous  paper, — and  finally  Mr.  X. 
himself.  The  governor  knew  and  had  reason  to  know 
that  the  civil  authorities  could  not  control  the  situation. 
The  mayor  and  the  sheriff — both  Germans — thought 
that  they  might  control  the  mob  by  some  native  elo¬ 
quence  of  their  own.  We — the  governor,  the  adjutant- 
general,  and  Mr.  X.,  now  a  colonel  and  aide-de-camp  on 
the  staff  of  the  governor — had  convictions  to  the  con¬ 
trary.  We  knew  the  civil  authorities  could  not  control 
the  mob,  and  that  nothing  short  of  the  sharp  arm  of  the 
National  Guard  would  put  an  end  to  the  lawlessness  and 
riot. 

The  mob — mostly  Germans  and  Polanders — had  swept 
through  the  valley  of  the  Menomonee,  cleaning  out  the 
railway  shops,  driving  workmen  from  their  benches, 
threatening  death  to  any  man  who  dared  to  work  after 
their  demand,  “  acht  stunde ”  (eight  hours),  had  been  acted 

upon  by  the  employers — unless  in  their  interest.  The 
h  10* 


1 14  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

great  Allis  works — the  finest  in  the  West — were  closed 
because  the  mob  threatened  the  workmen,  and  the  civil 
authorities  were  powerless  to  protect  them,  and  the 
mammoth  rolling-mills  far  down  towards  the  South  Point 
were  to  be  the  next  object  of  attack. 

Out  in  the  Menomonee  Valley  worse  things  prevailed. 
There  lay  the  great  shops  of  the  Milwaukee  and  St.  Paul 
Railway  Company,  every  man  driven  from  his  bench,  the 
round-house,  the  machine-shops,  the  repair-shops,  with 
a  thousand  plucky  employes ;  yet,  having  no  organiza¬ 
tion,  no  leader,  no  arms,  they  had  been  driven  from  their 
places  by  a  mob  of  frenzied  Polanders  and  “  low  Ger¬ 
mans,”  and  the  municipal  authorities,  with  a  reserve  of 
fifty  police,  and  the  county  magnates,  with  the  sheriff 
and  his  posse  comitatus ,  and  the  Teutonic  eloquence  of 
the  two  combined  could  effect  nothing.  Neither  one 
would  risk  his  political  chances  by  declaring  war  against 
the  vagabonds  that  had  already  despoiled  the  city’s  fair 
name.  Neither  dared  to  call  in  certain  aid  against  the 
German  name ;  both  knew  that,  while  at  the  outset  the 
strike  was  begun  by  honest  but  misguided  workmen,  in 
less  than  twenty-four  hours  the  strikers  were  re-enforced 
by  all  the  thugs,  thieves,  and  blackguards  that  could  be 
found  in  a  population  of  two  hundred  thousand, — mostly 
foreigners, — and,  above  all,  that  they  were  now  being 
hourly  incited  by  the  furious  speeches  of  avowed  Anar¬ 
chist  leaders  to  proceed  at  once  to  the  enforcement  of 
their  demands  by  the  application  of  the  torch  and  their 
own  peculiar  explosive,  dynamite.  It  was  known  and 
well  known  that  the  Anarchists  had  been  drilling  under 
arms  for  weeks  ahead,  and  the  mayor  himself  knew,  five 
days  before  the  great  parade,  under  the  red  flag,  of  the 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT.  1 1 5 

2d  of  May,  that  every  pawnbroker’s  or  second-hand 
shop  in  town  had  been  gutted  of  its  arms. 

Knowing  well  the  evil  elements  in  the  population, 
strenuous  efforts  had  been  made  for  some  time  before¬ 
hand  by  our  adjutant- general  to  get  the  National  Guard 
into  shape  for  business.  We  had  three  pretty  good 
regiments  in  the  State  and  one  battalion  of  infantry  of 
four  companies  in  the  metropolis.  But  a  crack  troop  of 
cavalry  and  a  light  battery  manned  by  an  admirably- 
drilled  complement  of  cannoneers,  all  dashing  young 
Americans,  were  our  local  main-stays.  Of  course  we 
were  balked  by  demagogue  politicians  in  the  Legislature, 
and  the  governor  himself  was  for  a  long  time  reluctant 
to  believe  that  there  was  any  necessity  for  this  prepara¬ 
tion.  He  showed  the  stuff  he  was  made  of,  however, 
one  night  at  a  convention  of  the  officers  of  the  National 
Guard,  when  Mr.  X.  had  inflicted  upon  them  a  long 
lecture  on  riot  duty.  No  sooner  had  the  lecturer  finished 
than  up  rose  the  commander-in-chief.  Six  feet  three  in 
his  stockings,  with  a  head  and  mane  and  beard  like  a 
gray  lion,  massive  and  impressive,  the  biggest  man  of 
the  hundreds  in  the  senate  chamber. 

“  Gentlemen,”  he  shouted,  “  I  want  to  say  one  thing 
right  now.  Colonel  X.  is  all  right  except  in  just  one 
point, — in  his  instructions  and  warnings  about  the  way 
you  receive  orders  from  mayors  and  marshals  and 
sheriffs.  Don’t  you  worry  about  that !  Whenever  the 
time  comes  for  you  to  tackle  a  mob  in  this  State,  I’ll  be 
thar  as  quick  as  you  can,  and  you'll  get  your  orders  from 
me .” 

The  applause  that  greeted  the  chief  was  deafening ; 
but  could  we  have  looked  ahead  a  brace  of  years  and 


Il6  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

seen  how  superbly  that  stalwart  promise  was  to  be  re¬ 
deemed,  the  dome  of  the  capitol  would  not  have  stood 
the  uproar. 

However,  as  the  spring  of  ’86  wore  on,  the  adjutant- 
general  at  the  capital  and  Mr.  X.  in  the  metropolis  were 
in  almost  daily  communication. 

The  latter  was  advised  to  keep  constant  watch  on  the 
situation,  and  the  days  were  rare  when  he  was  not  riding 
through  the  very  large  districts  occupied  by  the  Po- 
landers  and  the  socialistic  Germans,  and  sending  his 
conclusions  to  his  superior.  The  detectives  willingly 
told  him  all  they  knew,  but  the  chief  of  police  (a  Ger¬ 
man  of  most  kindly  and  affable  character,  who  had 
recently  stepped  into  the  position  with  no  knowledge 
whatever  of  police  or  detective  work  and  no  aptitude  for 
either,  but  simply  because  the  mayor,  a  German,  wanted 
a  German  in  that  place)  deprecated  all  rumors  of  threat¬ 
ening  meetings  among  the  Germans,  and  as  the  governor 
had,  among  his  political  advisers  and  henchmen  at  the 
capital,  several  Germans  (and  one  of  the  lowest  of  low 
Germans)  on  his  staff,  it  seemed  impossible  for  the 
adjutant-general  to  induce  him  even  to  order  the  ammuni¬ 
tion  so  desperately  needed  at  the  metropolis.  (We  had 
not  three  rounds  per  man  of  rifle,  carbine,  or  pistol  am¬ 
munition.  As  for  the  battery,  they  had  neither  shell  nor 
canister.) 

A  shrewd  politician  was  the  old  chief.  He  did  not 
mean  to  let  any  man  brand  him  as  an  intimidator;  but, 
just  at  the  fag  end  of  April,  he  concluded  to  drop  in 
and  take  a  look  for  himself,  and  what  he  saw  and 
heard  seemed  to  bring  about  instantaneous  change. 
He  whisked  back  to  the  capital  and  wired  at  once  to 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT.  1 1 7 

Rock  Island  for  ball  cartridge  enough  to  clean  out  a 
corps  d' armee — provided  they  hit.  Even  then,  however, 
he  did  not  mean  to  show  his  teeth.  Mr.  X.  got  orders 
to  meet  the  first  instalment  at  the  station  as  the  train 
came  in,  and  there,  with  some  stout  drays  in  readiness, 
that  officer  received  several  innocent-looking  dry-goods 
boxes,  variously  inscribed  “  overcoats,”  “  blankets,”  etc., 
but  the  draymen  wondered  at  the  marvelous  weight.  In 
an  hour  more  the  veteran  quartermaster-sergeant  of  the 
“  Light  Horse,”  with  the  assistance  of  one  man,  had 
knocked  those  boxes  to  flinders  and  lugged  their  con¬ 
tents  down  into  the  vaults  of  the  armory, — and  only 
three  men  knew  that  thirty  thousand  rounds  were  ready. 

On  Sunday,  May  2,  with  red  flags  innumerable,  the 
Anarchists,  Socialists,  and — sorry  day  for  them  that  ever 
they  took  up  with  such  company — thousands  of  Knights 
of  Labor,  made  their  big  parade.  At  the  fine  stone  armory 
of  the  Light  Horse, — which  they  built  themselves,  as 
the  State  declined  to, — in  the  quarters  of  the  troop  and 
of  that  gallant  Irish  company,  “  The  Sheridan  Guard,” 
a  couple  of  dozen  quiet  men  in  civilian  dress  looked 
grimly  from  the  windows,  making  no  reply  to  occasional 
demonstrations  of  hatred  and  defiance  from  the  proces¬ 
sion.  No  disturbance  occurred;  no  one  interfered  with 
the  picnic;  but  the  next  morning  the  riot  burst  forth 
with  the  rising  sun  all  over  the  manufacturing  districts, 
and  in  twelve  hours  our  fair  city  was  in  the  hands  of  a 
howling  mob,  with  a  German  mayor,  a  German  sheriff, 
a  German  chief  of  police,  whose  force  was  largely  made 
up  of  Germans,  and  all  of  whom  owed  their  positions  to 
the  preponderance  of  German  voters,  as  our  sole  legal 
barrier  against  anarchy  and  ruin. 


1 1 8  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

At  eight  o’clock  that  night  Mr.  X.  was  drilling  the  bat¬ 
tery  in  the  use  of  small  arms  with  which  to  defend  their 
wooden  armory,  far  up-town  and  close  to  the  “  Polack” 
settlements  (shell  and  canister  still  they  had  none),  and 
at  ten  he  received  a  dispatch  to  report  at  once  to  the 
governor,  who  was  hastening  in  by  special  train. 

It  was  about  midnight  that  the  conference  aforemen¬ 
tioned  was  going  on.  The  governor  was  eager  to  take 
hold  at  once,  but  could  not  unless  the  local  authorities 
begged  his  aid,  and  this,  after  much  “palaver,”  they 
finally  declined  to  do. 

It  was  about  I  a.m.,  therefore,  that  the  general  manager, 
whose  shops,  round-houses,  etc.,  had  all  been  cleaned  out, 
and  whose  elevators,  rolling-stock,  etc.,  were  now  threat¬ 
ened,  called  in  his  division  superintendent. 

“  Then  it  is  understood,  gentlemen,  that  we  can  have 
no  further  protection  than  you  have  given  us  thus  far?” 

The  mayor  and  sheriff  began  to  explain  that  they 
looked  for  better  things  on  the  morrow,  but  finally  ad¬ 
mitted  that  no  further  force  was  to  be  used. 

“  That  ends  it,  then.”  And  he  turned  to  his  assistant: 
“  Give  orders  to  close  up  everything,  Mr.  Collins.” 

“Very  good,  Mr.  Miller.” 

And  so  the  conference  ended. 

All  the  same,  we  had  our  orders  for  the  morrow.  And 
sure  enough,  about  8  o’clock  a.m.  the  civic  authorities 
threw  up  the  sponge  and  fled  to  the  governor  for  aid,  and 
at  8.45  all  over  the  city  the  fire-bells  were  clanging,  as 
aforesaid,  the  stirring  riot  alarm.  X.  made  a  quick  run 
for  the  armory  and  was  getting  into  uniform  in  the 
officers’  room,  while  the  troop  was  rapidly  assembling  in 
the  riding-hall  and  the  Sheridans  were  darting  up  the 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT.  119 

stairs  to  their  quarters  on  the  second  floor.  Then  the 
telephone  in  the  office  began  its  “  R-r-r-r-r-r-ring,”  and 
just  then  in  came  the  chief  and  the  adjutant-general. 
The  first  news  was  that  the  “  Polacks”  were  threatening 
the  battery  armory.  The  guns  were  in  danger,  and  be¬ 
tween  listening  at  the  ’phone  with  one  ear  and  to  arriving 
officers  with  the  other,  the  governor’s  first  order  was  to 
have  those  guns  run  down  here  as  quick  as  possible. 
Mr.  X.  was  put  in  command  of  the  troop,  battery,  and 
the  infantry  at  the  Central  station.  In  forty  minutes 
every  command  in  town  was  reported  by  wire  as  ready 
for  duty  at  its  armory. 

An  orderly  sent  to  the  battery  armory  came  back  on 
the  run  to  say  they  couldn’t  move  their  guns  because 
they  had  no  horses,  and  Mr.  X.  was  in  saddle  in  short 
order  and  trotting  northward  with  a  few  troopers  to 
“stir  them  up.”  It  was  a  quick  case  of  “  man  the  pole, 
splinter  bar,  and  wheels.”  Then  the  guns  were  in  the 
street  and  rolling  leisurely  down-town,  a  small  guard  was 
left  with  carbines  and  abundant  ammunition,  and,  with 
cannoneers  somewhat  blown  and  vastly  astonished,  those 
guns  were  soon  parked  in  the  big  riding-hall.  Mean¬ 
time,  the  Fourth  Battalion,  under  its  German  major,  had 
rapidly  assembled  and  been  whirled  off  by  special  train 
to  “  Bay  View,”  where  a  great  mob  was  already  gathering 
about  the  rolling-mills ;  a  knot  of  excited  citizens  were 
clattering  around  the  governor ;  an  expert  “  telephonist” 
was  at  the  instrument  rapidly  transmitting  messages  to 
and  from  the  chief  or  adjutant-general.  Every  company 
of  the  First  Infantry,  as  far  out  as  Darlington  on  the  line 
of  the  Southern  branch  of  the  railway,  fully  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles,  had  reported  ready  and  only  waiting  for 


120 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


the  cars ;  some  were  already  en  route.  We  knew  that  by 
3.30  we  would  be  re-enforced  by  at  least  four  companies, 
with  others  coming  close  on  their  heels  ;  but  meantime 
said  the  excited  citizens,  what  was  to  become  of  the  Allis 
works,  the  stove-works,  the  great  flour-mills,  the  mag¬ 
nificent  elevators,  and,  above  all,  the  breweries ?  Mobs 
were  gathering  around  each  and  every  one,  so  declared 
each  new  arrival,  and  X.  and  his  cavalry  were  kept  on  the 
jump  whisking  around  town  and  exploding  these  canards. 
There  wasn’t  a  mob  at  any  one  of  these  points  that  a 
platoon  couldn’t  have  larruped.  But  at  one  of  the  great 
German  gardens  there  was  a  throng, — half  honest  arbeiter , 
half  “  toughs,” — listening  to  blood-curdling  harangues 
from  their  leaders,  and  these  fellows  we  reconnoitred  from 
time  to  time,  while  solid  ranks  of  police  stood  near  the 
gates. 

Down  at  Bay  View  the  battalion — very  badly  handled — 
had  been  drawn  within  the  gates  by  a  species  of  march 
by  the  flank  in  single  file  through  a  crowd  that  followed 
them  with  imprecations  and  brickbats  and  nearly  over¬ 
whelmed  the  rearmost  company,  which  was  composed, 
oddly  enough,  mainly  of  Polanders,  but  of  a  better  class. 
A  dozen  panicky  shots  were  fired  which  seemed  to  set 
everybody  to  running,  and  our  expert  at  the  telephone 
was  kept  dancing  and  shouting  at  the  instrument  for  a  full 
half-hour,  when  suddenly  the  thing  joined  the  strikers 
and  refused  to  work. 

“  Our  line’s  cut,  sir,  between  here  and  the  Central,” 
was  the  quick  report. 

“  Run  up  another,  and  be  lively,”  said  the  chief. 

Then  came  the  order  for  Mr.  X.  and  the  cavalry  to 
speed  forth  again,  this  time  to  tackle  a  gang  at  the  rail* 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT. 


121 


way  depot,  where  they  were  gathered  with  the  evident 
idea  of  making  it  lively  for  the  in-coming  troops.  We 
found  them  ugly,  blasphemous,  and  obscene,  but  not 
dangerous.  The  first  platoon  cleared  the  needed  space 
in  ten  seconds  without  firing  a  shot  or  delivering  a  whack 
with  the  sabre.  The  other  three  formed  facing  outward, 
so  that  we  had  a  big,  clear  rectangle  three  hundred  yards 
long,  and  here  in  fifteen  minutes  formed  the  arriving 
infantry  and  a  mysterious  little  four-wheeled  wagon. 
“  Verdamptes  mitrailleuse  /”  exclaimed  one  of  the  scowlers 
on  the  sidewalk.  We  were  off  for  the  armory  in  a 
moment  more,  covering  the  broad  streets  from  curb  to 
curb,  but  the  mob  did  not  follow  with  so  much  as  a 
pebble. 

Except  a  brief  disagreement  between  a  battalion  of  the 
First  Infantry  and  an  overwhelming  gang  that  had  driven 
the  police  “  galley  west,”  nothing  of  consequence  occurred 
in  town  that  afternoon  or  evening.  Fast  as  the  troops 
arrived  they  were  sent  to  important  points, — one  little 
detachment  out  to  the  railway  shops ;  a  stronger  one, 
four  companies,  to  the  Allis  works ;  others  to  re-enforce 
Mr.  X.  at  the  Central  station,  which,  said  the  police,  the 
rioters  meant  to  attack  in  force  and  rescue  the  ringleaders 
and  rioters  “  run  in”  during  the  day. 

But  the  main  anxiety  was  about  Bay  View  as  the  late 
hours  of  the  evening  came  round. 

Whatever  the  German  major  might  think,  he  had  two 
or  three  timorous  parties  on  his  staff  who  were  perpetually 
wailing  over  the  telephone  that  their  position  was  most 
hazardous ;  the  mob  was  all  around  them  in  heavy  force  ; 
burning  freight-cars,  etc.  Couldn't  more  troops  be  sent? 

The  governor  learned  by  ten  at  night  that  furious 


12  2 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


meetings  had  been  held  in  various  resorts  on  the  South 
Side,  and  that  a  genuine  uprising  had  taken  place  among 
the  Poles,  who,  in  response  to  the  rabid  harangues  of 
their  leaders,  resolved  to  march  in  full  numbers  on  the 
following  morning,  strip  the  insolent  militia  of  their  arms, 
and  drive  them  into  the  lake.  As  a  consequence,  two 
American  companies  appeared  on  the  right  of  the  bat¬ 
talion  line,  making  six  in  all,  when  the  vast  mob,  waving 
the  flags  of  anarchy  and  of  some  socialistic  society  over 
their  heads,  came  thronging  into  view  on  the  morning  of 
the  4th  of  May. 

Meantime,  the  governor,  over  the  telephone,  had  had 
brief  converse  with  the  commander.  We  were,  indeed, 
“  getting  our  orders  from  him,”  and  they  were  brief  and 
explicit, — 

“  If  that  mob  marches  on  you  in  the  morning,  open  fire, 
sir,  and  drive  ’em  back.” 

It  so  happened  that  Mr.  X.  was  in  the  office  the  next 
morning  when  the  worn-out  orderly  at  the  telephone 
suddenly  called  for  the  governor. 

“  Message  from  Bay  View,  sir.  The  mob’s  advancing.” 

The  chief  sprang  to  the  instrument  and  sung  out, 
“  Hullo  !  Hey  ?  That  you,  major  ?  What  do  you  say  ? 
They’re  coming,  are  they  ?  Then  give  it  to  ’em  !  Fire 
at  once !” 

And  with  one  volley  the  back-bone  of  local  anarchy 
was  broken. 

There  was  tremendous  uproar  and  excitement  that  day 
in  our  city.  The  mobs  were  everywhere,  but  the  main 
body  was  gathered  at  their  big  garden  on  the  West  Side. 
Mr.  X.  had  only  the  troop  and  two  companies  of  infantry 
with  him  when  at  two  o’clock  the  police  telephoned  that 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT. 


I23 


they  were  completely  overwhelmed  at  that  point ;  that 
they  were  being  fired  on  and  driven,  and  they  wanted 
“  all  the  help  that  could  be  sent  them.” 

“  Now,  I  want  this  thing  stopped  for  good  and  all,” 
said  the  chief.  “  Here,  X.,  take  the  Light  Horse  and 
what  infantry  you  have  and  wind  it  up.” 

In  fifteen  minutes  we  were  there.  The  Light  Horse 
pulled  the  police  out  of  the  hole  they  were  in ;  the 
infantry  silently  and  sternly  drove  back  the  howling  gang 
until  we  had  all  the  space  we  needed  and  complete  com¬ 
mand  of  the  position.  The  mob  fell  back  a  block  away 
in  every  direction.  Some  stones  were  thrown,  but  none 
reached  us.  Then  we  got  up  the  patrol  wagons,  made 
sudden  dashes  into  the  mob,  gathered  in  man  after  man 
until  we  had  the  carts  crammed  three  deep  with  cowed 
or  cursing  “  toughs,”  but  never  a  move  was  made  to 
rescue  them.  Never  another  stone  was  thrown.  Every 
time  a  platoon  of  horse  started  up  either  street,  away 
would  go  the  crowd  full  tilt ;  the  big  garden  had  not  an 
occupant,  and  we  had  not  had  to  pull  trigger  once. 
Finally  the  little  command  rode  back  through  streets 
crammed  with  rioters  an  hour  before  and  brought  its 
cart-loads  of  “  toughs”  to  the  police  station.  That  night 
in  Chicago  was  the  tragedy  of  the  dynamite  bomb  in 
Haymarket  with  the  slaughter  of  so  many  brave  men, 
but  when  we  got  back  from  the  garden  we  had  the  local 
leaders  and  the  orators  behind  the  bars,  and  our  mob 
had  played  its  last  card. 

All  the  same,  the  guard  had  to  be  kept  up.  The 
governor  left  for  his  hotel ;  the  adjutant-general  was  sud¬ 
denly  called  to  the  capitol,  and  Mr.  X.  was  left  supreme 
at  head-quarters,  and  was  ass  enough  to  tell  the  worn-out 


124 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


telephonist  he  might  go  until  morning.  Not  until  this 
eventful  night  did  he  learn  the  real  character  of  the  tele¬ 
phone  as  an  adjunct  to  military  operations.  He  had  had 
no  sleep  for  thirty-six  hours,  and  meant  to  get  it  now. 
Guards,  sentries,  pickets,  and  patrols  were  all  provided 
for.  The  captain  of  the  Light  Horse  moved  in  with 
him,  and  on  a  couple  of  cots  they  stretched  themselves, 
boots,  spurs,  and  all.  Then  it  began, — 

R-r-r-r-r-ring ! 

Up  jumps  Mr.  X.  and  seizes  the  “ear  trumpet.” 

“Hello!” 

“  Oh — all  right.  That’s  you,  X.  How’re  you  all 
getting  on  ?”  comes  back  in  the  sonorous  voice  of  the 
governor. 

“  All  serene.  Every  man  asleep  except  the  guard.” 

“  Well.  A  report  has  just  come  to  me  that  Caldwell’s 
command  out  at  the  car-shops - ” 

Plkt.  Whr-r-r-r-r-r ! 

And  the  governor’s  firm  tones  are  suddenly  replaced 
by  a  shrill,  distant,  high-pitched  feminine  communi¬ 
cation, — 

“An’  I  just  told  her  that  I  wouldn’t  stand  it  from  her 
or  any  other - ” 

Mr.  X.  grasps  the  crank  with  indignant  hand : 

R-r-r-r-ring ! 

A  voice,  sweet  and  placid — feminine  of  course — re¬ 
sponds, — 

“  Ye — es  ?  What  is  it,  Armory  ?” 

“  I  was  just  receiving  a  very  important  message  from 
the  governor  and  was  cut  off  in  the  midst  of  it.” 

“  From  whom  ?”  still  sweetly. 

“  From  the  governor.” 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT.  1 25 

“  Ye — es  ?  What  governor  ?” 

“  Why,  good  Gbeg  your  pardon — the  governor  of  the 
State,  Governor  R - .  Find  him  right  off.” 

“  Where  was  he  ?” 

“  Don’t  know.  Try  the  hotel.” 

“  Who  shall  I  say  wants  him  ?”  sweeter  yet. 

“  Colonel  X.,  at  the  armory.” 

“  What  at  the  armory?” 

“No  matter!”  (vehemently).  “Just  tell  him  the 
armory  only  got  part  of  his  message.  I’ll  stay  right 
here.” 

Presently  the  same  sweet,  placid  voice, — 

“  All  right,  here’s  the  governor.” 

Next,  explosively,  “  And  if  you  allow  such  a  thing  to 
occur  again  you’ll  never  hear  the  last  of  it.” 

Mr.  X.  (aghast). — “  Why,  what  in  blazes  has  gone 
wrong,  governor?” 

“  Good  Lord !  That  you,  X.  ?  Thought  I  was  still 
talking  with  those  blankety  idiots  at  the  Central.  Why, 
they’ve  cut  me  off  three  times  to-night  in  the  midst  of 
important  matter - ” 

“  Well, — pardon  me, — but  there’s  no  telling  how  soon 
they’ll  do  it  again.  What  were  you  saying  about  Cald¬ 
well  ?” 

“  Great  Scott !  Didn’t  you  get  that  ?  Why,  I  directed 
you  to - ” 

“  Armory !  Armory !  Are  you  through  yet  ?”  It’s 
the  sweet  voice  at  the  Central. 

“  Through  !  Not  by  a — (gulp) — good  deal.  Give  me 
the  governor  again.” 

Three  minutes  anxious  waiting.  Then,  sweet  as  be¬ 
fore, — 


11* 


126 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


“  Armory,  are  you  there  ?  Oh  !  Well,  the  governor 
isn’t  there  any  more.  He’s  gone  away !” 

Mr.  X.  makes  a  jump  for  his  sabre,  and  the  stalwart 
captain  of  the  Light  Horse  tumbles  out  of  his  blanket 
with  the  query,  “  What’s  wrong  ?” 

“  Don’t  know.  You  stay  here  in  charge.  I’ve  got  to 
find  the  chief.” 

A  cab  whirls  Mr.  X.  over  to  the  hotel,  and  there  he 
finds  the  governor,  beaming.  He  is  surrounded  by 
prominent  citizens  congratulating  him,  and  by  reporters 
taking  notes.  He  comes  forward  at  once  to  greet  his 
staff-officer. 

“  Did  you  get  my  message  ?” 

“  No,  sir.  It  seemed  impossible.” 

“  Well,  it’s  all  right  as  it  turned  out.  Some  railway 
people  hurried  in  to  tell  me  the  mob  were  firing  their 
cars  in  the  valley  and  that  Caldwell  was  unable  to  pre¬ 
vent  it,  but  the  manager  had  his  own  telephone,  and 
found  out  that  there  was  nothing  in  it.  The  town’s  full 
of  rumors.” 

“  Then,  if  there’s  nothing  else,  governor,  I’ll  go  back 
to  my  post.” 

“  All  comfortable  up  there  ?” 

“Well,  the  men  are,  but  I’ve  a  mind  to  take  an  ax 
and  demolish  that  infernal  telephone.  I  apprehend  we’re 
to  have  a  lively  night  with  it.” 

Back  to  the  big  armory.  In  the  riding-hall  and  stables 
seventy  horses,  in  the  troop  quarters  sixty-five  men,  and 
in  the  battery-rooms  as  many;  in  the  drill-hall  and 
company-rooms  nearly  three  hundred  infantry,  all  peace¬ 
fully  resting  from  their  labors.  In  the  head-quarters 
office,  the  liveliest  monologue,  interspersed,  like  the 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT. 


127 


conversation  of  old  Mexican  War  Patten,  with  vivid 
blasphemy.  It  is  the  stalwart  leader  of  the  Light  Horse 
who  holds  the  floor — and  the  telephone. 

“  Here,  take  this  thing !”  he  says,  as  X.  enters. 
“  Damned  if  I  don’t  believe  the  Central  has  swapped 
with  the  lunatic  asylum  to-night. — Hey?  What  did 
you  ask  ?”  And  again  he  addresses  the  conscienceless 
instrument.  Pause,  while  Mr.  X.  throws  off  his  sabre 
and  gauntlets.  “  No  !  But  you  can  just  tell  the  man¬ 
ager  that  if  we  are  cut  off  again  to-night  while  important 
messages  are  coming  or  going,  I’ll  be  hanged  if  we  don’t 
send  a  guard  over  there  and  take  possession  ourselves. 
Now  give  us  Bay  View  again.  Here’s  Colonel  X.” 

“  What’s  wrong  at  Bay  View,  captain  ?”  asks  X.,  as 
he  takes  his  station  at  the  instrument. 

“  Why,  they  report  firing.  I  couldn’t  make  out  where ; 
and  right  in  the  midst  of  it  some  d — d  newspaper  chips 
in  to  know  if  we’ve  got  one  of  their  reporters  here  as  a 
prisoner.  I  had  just  time  to  say  I’d  find  out  right  off, 
and  if  we  had  we’d  hang  him,  when  they  were  switched 
off  and  the  commander  at  the  Allis  works  asked  if  we  had 
any  information  of  a  mob’s  coming  that  way  and - ” 

“  Hold  on  a  moment,”  says  X.  “  What  is  it,  Central?” 

“  Oh !  I  beg  pardon,”  the  sweet  voice  again :  “  I 
thought  this  was  the  armory.  Never  mind.” 

“  It  is  the  armory,”  yells  X.,  in  desperation.  “  I’ve 
just  got  back.” 

But  the  sole  reply  is  a  distant  “  Whr-r-r-r-r-r-r — 
Pick  /” 

R-r-r-r-r-ring — r-ring — r-r-r-ing-ing,  trolls  the  bell  in 
response  to  vigorous  twirling,  and  presently — that  in¬ 
domitably  sweet  voice, — 


128 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


“  Ye — es  ?  That  you,  Armory  ?  Thought  you’d  gone.” 

“  Gone  ?  We  can’t  go !  Now,  for  goodness’  sake, 
give  me  Ray  View — quick  !” 

“  Bay  View  ?  Why  they’ve  been  talking  the  last  half- 
hour,  and  finally  got  disgusted  because  you  wouldn’t 
answer.  I’ll  try  what  I  can  do.” 

A  few  moments’ suspense ;  then,  “  Yes.  Here  they 
are.” 

“  Hello,  Bay  View !  What’s  the  matter?” 

“  Why,  Colonel  X.,  we’ve  been  trying  to  get  you  the 
last  twenty  minutes.  This  is  Major  A.,  of  the  staff.  The 
outposts  and  sentries  towards  town  report  heavy  firing 
about  the  Allis  works  and - ” 

Plkt !  “Armory  !  Here’s  somebody  who  must  speak 
with  you  at  once.”  (The  sweet  voice  again.) 

“  Drive  ahead,”  says  X.,  all  a-quiver.  “  It’s  the  Allis 
works,  no  doubt,  and  they’re  attacked.” 

A  shrill  small  voice  :  “Armory!  Armory!  Can’t  you 
answer?  I’ve  been  trying  to  get  you  all  night.” 

“  Here  we  are ;  but  for  Heaven’s  sake  be  quick.” 

“  Well — who  is  this  ?” 

“  Colonel  X.” 

“  Colonel  who  ?” 

“  Colonel  X.” 

“  Well,  I  don’t  know  whether  .  you’re  the  gentleman 
Mrs.  Ferguson  wanted  to  speak  with  or  not.  She’s  got 
company  now  down  in  the  parlor.  I’ll  run  and  see.  Just 
you  hold  the  line  a - ” 

“Hi!  Central!”  shouts  X.  “Shut  off  that  gabbling 
idiot  and  give  me  the  Allis  works — quick.” 

“Shut  off  what?”  (sweetly).  “Please  speak  a  little 
lower  and  stand  just  a  little  farther  back.” 


THE  TELEPHONE  AS  AN  ADJUNCT. 


129 


“  Oh,  never  mind.  Ring  up  the  Allis  works  at  once.” 

Presently  the  Allis  works. 

“  Maj'or,  is  everything  all  right.  Have  you  had  any 
trouble  ?” 

“  Nothing  ’cept  half  a  dozen  toughs  tried  to  set  fire  to 
the  fence.  We  rounded  ’em  up  before  they  knew  it. 
A  nother  two  tried  to  disarm  one  of  my  sentries.  He 
knocked  one  of  them  silly  with  a  ‘  butt  to  the  front,’  and 
the  other’s  lying  here  with  a - ” 

“  Pardon  me,  but  have  you  had  an  attack  ?  any  firing — 
any  approach  from  a  mob  ?” 

“No  such  luck!  I  wish  to  goodness  they  would 
come.” 

Then  for  an  hour  brisk  inquiries  and  answers  to  and 
from  the  various  detached  posts,  only  to  find  that  there 
had  been  no  firing,  no  aggressive  move.  Then  midnight, 
and  the  post-commander  finds  himself  worn  out. 

“  Central !”  he  calls. 

“  Ye — es,”  sweetly. 

“  We  are  about  used  up  now.  Please  give  positive 
directions  that  except  it  be  important  military  business 
we  are  not  rung  up  again  to-night.” 

“Very  well.  Pm  tired  too,  and  go  home  in  five 
minutes ;  but  I’ll  see  you  are  not  disturbed.  Good - 
night.” 

And  then  Mr.  X.,  played  out,  with  a  sigh  of  mingled 
weariness  and  relief,  throws  himself  upon  his  bunk.  The 
big  captain  rises,  takes  his  sabre,  and  says, — 

“  Hope  to  goodness  you  can  get  a  little  rest  now.  Pm 
going  out  to  look  after  my  guards  and  outposts.  Back 
in  half  an  hour.” 

One  more  message  presently  routs  Mr.  X.  out  again. 


130 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


A  high  city  official  warns  head-quarters  that  immense 
crowds  have  attended  all  the  “  indignation  meetings” 
held  throughout  the  city,  and  mean  to  assault  the  armory 
in  the  morning  to  release  their  prisoners.  “  They  have 
dynamite.” 

“  So  have  we — lots  of  it.  Good-night.” 

Finally,  drowsiness,  oblivion — then,  R-r-r-r-r-r-ing 
.  .  .  r-r-ring !  Loud,  urgent,  imperative.  One  bound 
takes  Mr.  X.  to  the  telephone. 

“  Hello  !” 

“  Oh,  Armory  !  I’m  so  glad  to  get  you  at  last.”  (The 
voice  is  feminine,  but  pleasant,  motherly,  benevolent.) 
“  I  tried  to  get  you  several  times  this  evening,  but  when 
I  could  get  the  wire  you  were  busy,  and  when  you 
responded  I  had  visitors  whom  I  could  not  well  leave.” 
(Ah !  Mrs.  Ferguson  herself  at  last.)  “  I  wanted  to 
inquire  about  Willy  Simpson.  His  mother  and  I  are  old 
friends,  and  she  telephoned  me  to  say  she  had  to  leave 
town,  and  please  to  have  a  motherly  eye  over  him  in  case 
of  injury  or  trouble.” 

“  No  man  of  that  name  in  this  command  has  been 
wounded  or  injured  in  any  way,  madame.” 

“  You’re  sure  of  that,  are  you  ?  I  couldn’t  go  to  bed 
without  knowing,  and  my  friends  have  just  left  me — but, 
who  is  this  ?” 

“  Colonel  X.,  madame.” 

“  Oh,  yes.  Well,  you  know  Willy,  of  course.” 

“  I  regret  to  say  I  do  not — personally.  What  does  he 
belong  to  ?” 

“  Indeed,  I’m  not  sure  ;  but  its  the  military — the  militia, 

you  know.  If  Captain  S - were  there,  perhaps  he 

could  tell.” 


THE  TELEPHONE  Aa  AN  ADJUNCT.  131 

Enter  at  this  instant  Captain  S - from  his  tour  of 

inspection,  and  X.  gladly  hands  over  the  case  to  him. 

“  What  can  I  do  for  you,  Mrs.  Ferguson.  This  is 
Captain  S - begins  the  one-sided  colloquy. 

“  Willy  Simpson,  did  you  say  ?  No,  I  don’t  know  him. 
And  you  say  you  don’t  know  what  he  belongs  to?” 

“  H’m  !  Yes.  We’ve  got  as  many  as  five  hundred. 
There’s  the  Light  Horse,  the  battery,  and  about  six 
companies  of  infantry.  I  don’t  see  how  you  could  speak 
with  him  to-night.” 

“  Oh,  yes  !  He  must  be  here  ;  but  you  wouldn’t  ask 
me  to  wake  every  one  of  the  five  hundred  up  to  inquire 
if  he  was  Willy  Simpson  ?” 

“  No,  madame ;  I’ll  do  it  in  the  morning,  but  I  cannot 
now.  It  is  simply  impossible.” 

“  Very  well,  madame,  good-night.” 

“  See  here,  now,  Central,  that’s  enough  of  that  sort  of 
thing  for  one  night, — and  don’t  you  forget  it !” 

Then,  with  a  comical  grin  on  his  tired  face,  the  captain 
turns  to  Mr.  X. 

“  What  do  you  suppose  the  blessed  old  lady  routed 
us  out  at  this  hour  for?” 

Mr.  X.  is  at  a  loss  to  conjecture. 

“  She  says  she  must  write  to  ‘  Willy’s’  mother  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning,  and  she  wants  to  be  able  to  tell  her 
that  the  pies  she  sent  him  were  safely  received.” 

R-r-r-r-r-ing ! 


132 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


MILITIA  INSPECTIONS. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1885  that  Mr.  X.  was  notified 
by  the  adjutant-general  of  the  State  that,  in  addition  to 
his  duties  as  aide-de-camp,  he  was  named  assistant  in¬ 
spector-general,  and  would  be  required  to  make  the 
inspections  as  prescribed  by  law  that  season.  We  were 
still  a  “  granger”  State.  The  old  militia  laws  were,  many 
of  them,  still  in  existence ;  but,  like  the  militia,  hardly 
in  force.  Our  legislators  were  men  deeply  imbued  with 
the  idea  that  these  new  organizations,  springing  up  and 
drilling  assiduously,  were  nothing  but  revivals  of  the 
old  “  ante-bellum ”  target  companies,  whose  sole  object 
was  to  parade  the  streets  in  swell  uniforms,  and  have  an 
occasional  ball  or  picnic.  We  had  wrestled  hard  with 
these  Solons,  and  had  striven  to  make  them  understand 
that  here  in  the  Badger  State  we  were  endeavoring  to 
bring  about  the  renaissance  so  thoroughly  accomplished 
in  Pennsylvania  and  other  commonwealths  in  the  East. 
We  wanted  to  organize  the  Guard  on  a  business  basis ; 
disband  the  show  companies ;  abolish  the  old  swallow¬ 
tailed  coats;  introduce  uniform  instruction  and  disci¬ 
pline;  make  the  command,  in  short,  available  for  duty. 
But  it  was  uphill  work.  Ours  is  a  mixed  community, 
and  the  representatives  of  the  people  were,  of  course, 
mixed  in  equal  proportion, — so  were  their  ideas.  It 
seemed  impossible  to  get  most  of  them  to  understand 
the  situation.  “  If  the  boys  want  to  git  uniforms  and 


MILITIA  INSPECTIONS. 


133 


play  soldiers  let  ’em  pay  for  ’em,  that’s  what  I  say.  The 
people  ain’t  a-goin’  to  do  it,”  said  the  member  from 
Koshtowoc,  as  he  banged  the  table  with  his  fist  and 
looked  triumphantly  around  upon  his  colleagues,  sure 
of  support  and  applause. 

That  patient  and  diplomatic  official,  our  adjutant- 
general,  explained,  however,  that  the  riots  of  ’77  had 
taught  Pennsylvania  the  need  of  a  disciplined  State  force. 
Ohio  had  learned  the  bitter  results  of  neglect  in  the 
destruction  of  Cincinnati’s  court-house  and  records,  with 
lamentable  bloodshed  as  an  accompaniment.  Chicago 
had  twice  been  at  the  mercy  of  her  thugs  and  black¬ 
guards,  and  had  to  call  for  regulars  to  help  her  out  of 
the  mire.  We  did  not  want  that  said  of  our  metropolis. 

But  the  satirical  Solon  was  not  to  be  alarmed  by 
“  modern  instances.”  “  I  don’t  fear  anything  of  that  kind 
here,”  he  said.  “  The  good  sense  of  the  people  will 
stand  between  us  and  harm.  We  have  no  rioters  and 
thugs.”  (Sixteen  months  afterwards  our  metropolis  was 
in  the  hands  of  a  mob  of  anarchists,  socialists,  etc.,  and 
the  civil  authorities  begging  for  troops.)  “  If  there’s 
any  trouble  here  we’ll  just  call  out  the  old  Grand  Army 
of  the  Republic  boys.  They’ll  settle  it.”  And  in  so  say¬ 
ing  the  orator  from  Koshtowoc  winked  at  his  associates 
on  the  committee  and  nodded  to  the  note-taking  reporter. 
That  remark  was  warranted  to  “  make  him  solid  with 
the  boys”  in  his  district.  And  so  our  committee  fell 
back  with  distinct  sense  of  defeat. 

All  the  same,  the  adjutant-general  was  not  the  man  to 
give  up.  It  was  a  holy  cause ;  and  if  we  couldn’t  get 
what  we  ought  to  have,  we  would  do  the  best  with  the 
means  at  hand. 


12 


134 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


At  this  time  the  authorized  force  of  the  State  con¬ 
sisted  of  thirty-four  companies  of  infantry,  a  troop  of 
cavalry,  and  a  battery  of  light  artillery.  The  support 
allowed  them  was  three  hundred  dollars  a  year,  each,  for 
armory  rent,  and  five  dollars  per  man  for  uniforms. 
Three  regiments  were  formed  of  ten  companies  each, 
and  in  our  city  one  battalion  of  four  companies.  The 
law  required  each  company  to  be  inspected  once  a  year 
between  the  1st  of  May  and  the  1st  of  November,  at  its 
own  station  and  in  its  own  armory ;  and,  with  admirable 
economic  spirit,  provided  that  the  officer  making  the 
inspection  should  receive  no  pay  whatever,  but  might  be 
reimbursed  by  mileage  for  the  ’necessary  traveling  ex¬ 
penses. 

Deeply  interested  as  he  had  been  in  the  troops  of  his 
State  in  the  days  when  he  was  big  enough  to  be  made 
marker  of  the  First  Regiment,  long  before  the  war,  Mr. 
X.  had  read  the  newspaper  accounts  of  these  annual 
inspections  with  unflagging  zeal,  and  had  high  expecta¬ 
tions  accordingly. 

It  had  been  the  custom  for  some  years  for  different 
staff-officers  to  inspect  the  commands  nearest  their 
homes,  and  as  many  or  most  of  these  gentry  were 
selected  because  of  some  political  “  pull,”  and  rarely 
because  of  any  knowledge  or  experience  in  the  military 
art,  it  is  perhaps  easy  to  account  for  the  similarity  be¬ 
tween  the  journalistic  accounts  of  these  ordeals.  One 
will  suffice  for  the  lot.  We  quote  from  the  Daily  Re¬ 
porter  : 

“  MILITARY  INSPECTION  AND  DRILL. 

“Last  night  the  Guards  were  formally  inspected  and  reviewed  by 
General  Blank,  of  the  governor’s  staff.  The  company  under  Captain - 


MILITIA  INSPECTIONS. 


135 


made  a  splendid  appearance  as  it  filed  into  the  drill-room,  and,  as  each 
man  answered  ‘  here,’  and  brought  his  musket  down  with  a  bang  when 
the  orderly  called  his  name,  every  spectator  felt  a  thrill  of  pride  at  their 
martial  bearing. 

“  After  the  drill,  which  was  executed  with  the  precision  of  veterans, 
the  silent  manual  and  the  drum-tap  movements  being  especially  fine,  the 
general  addressed  the  boys,  highly  complimenting  them  upon  their  disci¬ 
pline  and  efficiency,  and  congratulating  the  citizens  of  our  thriving  town 

upon  having  so  admirable  a  band  of  defenders.  Captain - made  an 

appropriate  reply,  and  Orderly - called  for  three  cheers  for  the  gen¬ 

eral,  which  were  given  with  a  will.  Then,  headed  by  Zimmerman’s  band, 
the  Guards  marched  to  Tony  Schlaeger’s,  where  speeches,  songs,  and 
foaming  lager  wound  up  an  enjoyable  evening. 

“  Confidentially,  the  general  told  our  reporter  that  he  had  never  seen 

anywhere  such  precision  in  drill,  and  that  the - Guards  could  not  be 

excelled  even  by  the  famous  Seventh  Regiment  of  New  York  City.” 


When  the  general  inspected  the  Rifles  at  Washabaw 
the  following  evening,  he  appears  to  have  been  similarly- 
impressed  by  the  sight  of  that  fine  command,  so  said  the 
Washabaw  Journal.  And  so  in  like  manner  were  the 
various  staff-officers,  until  the  spring  of  ’82,  when  we  got 
a  war-horse  for  a  governor  and  an  energetic  soldier  for 
adj  utant-general. 

Barring  a  possible,  and  most  natural,  leaning  to  the 
Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  and  an  unflinching  faith 
that,  with  a  squad  of  his  old  boys,  armed  with  the  old 
gas-pipe  of  a  muzzle-loader,  he  could  clean  out  a  whole 
company  of  these  new-fangled  things,  the  Executive  did 
pretty  well  by  his  troops,  and  the  adjutant-general  did  all 
the  inspecting  that  year  and  for  a  year  or  so  later,  he 
being  by  law  adjutant-  and  inspector-general  of  the  State. 
Then,  having  paved  the  way,  he  called  in  Mr.  X.,  and 
that  officer  began  to  work  on  the  lines  indicated,  and 
for  the  first  time  had  an  opportunity  of  visiting  at  their 


136  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

quarters  the  Guards  and  Rifles  and  other  commands  of 
whose  efficiency  the  local  press  had  spoken  in  such 
glowing  terms. 

There  was  a  time,  years  before  the  war,  when,  with 
broad  white  crossed  belts,  glittering  breastplate,  and  low- 
hung  cartridge-box  and  bayonet  scabbards,  with  high 
bear-skin  shakos,  and  the  slow,  stately  movement  of 
Scott’s  tactics,  the  old  swallow-tailed  coat  looked  well ; 
but  to  see  a  swallow-tailed  coat  with  loose  trousers,  no 
cross-belts,  no  tall  shakos,  nothing  but  a  waist-belt  and 
a  forage-cap,  the  thing  seemed  incongruous  in  the  last 
degree ;  but  that  was  the  way  Mr.  X.  found  many  of  the 
companies  of  the  State  when  he  made  his  rounds  in  1885. 

As  luck  would  have  it,  one  of  the  first  companies 
visited  was  the  “Veteran  Rifles,”  which  had  been  pro¬ 
nounced  by  General  Blank,  three  years  before,  the  equals 
of  the  New  York  Seventh,  and,  quite  possibly,  had  so 
considered  themselves  ever  since. 

The  captain  met  the  new  inspector  with  a  fine  flourish 
at  the  door  of  the  armory,  and  informed  him  that  the 
boys  were  ready  whenever  he  chose  to  appear.  The 
inspector  told  the  captain  that  he  would  like  him  to  dis¬ 
miss  his  company,  and  then  let  him  see  the  first  sergeant 
form  it  and  call  the  roll.  Ranks  being  broken,  the  first 
sergeant  gave  the  command,  “  Fall  in,  Veteran  Rifles !” 
and  the  men  took  their  places  in  rank,  not  without  con¬ 
siderable  pushing  and  an  infinite  amount  of  looking 
about,  laughing,  and  talking.  The  file-closers  made  no 
attempt  to  check  this  performance,  the  lieutenants  fell  in 
with  the  file-closers,  and  the  captain  stood  with  folded 
arms  where  he  could  look  on,  but  in  no  way  did  he 
interfere  with  the  work  of  the  omnipotent  “  orderly.” 


MILITIA  INSPECTIONS. 


137 


That  official  stepped  down  the  line,  and  not  being  satis¬ 
fied  with  the  positions  of  some  of  the  men,  took  them 
severally  by  the  sleeves  of  their  coats,  dragged  them  out 
of  the  column  of  files,  towed  them  to  some  other  point, 
and  squeezed  them  in.  Finally,  having  the  men  placed 
in  accordance  with  his  ideas,  the  first  sergeant  gave  the 
command,  “  Left  face  ;  support  arms.  Attention  to  roll- 
call.”  And  the  first  name  called  was  that  of  Captain 

- ,  next  Lieutenant  Brown,  then  Lieutenant  Jones,  and 

each  of  these  commissioned  officers  obediently  and 
promptly  answered  “  here”  at  the  beck  of  the  first  ser¬ 
geant. 

When  the  captain  was  requested  to  give  his  authority 
afterwards  for  this  somewhat  unusual  method,  he  replied 
that  they  had  always  done  it,  and  that  nobody  had  ever 
found  fault  with  it,  and  it  was  considered  the  proper 
thing. 

After  the  inspection,  which  went  off  without  any  fur¬ 
ther  remarks  on  the  part  of  the  inspecting  officer,  who 
preferred  to  see  how  things  would  go  without  any  inter¬ 
ference,  the  captain  gave  the  command,  “  Rest ;”  and  Mr. 
X.  proceeded  to  jot  down  in  his  note-book  the  number 
of  men  not  properly  shaved,  boots  not  blacked,  dirty  or 
torn  gloves,  coats  not  buttoned,  fancy  neck-ties,  jeweled 
scarf-pins,  and  other  unorthodox  points  which  had  at¬ 
tracted  his  attention. 

A  reporter  stepped  up  and  blandly  inquired  what  he 
thought  of  the  boys,  and  the  inspector  informed  the 
reporter  that  he  could  tell  more  about  it  when  he  got 
through  with  them. 

During  the  inspection  several  men,  chewing  tobacco, 

were  expectorating  freely  over  the  floor,  and  exchanging 

12* 


1 38  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

remarks  with  their  comrades  in  the  line  as  to  the  ap¬ 
pearance  of  certain  of  the  spectators  and  the  somewhat 
unusual  movements  of  the  new  colonel. 

The  captain  was  then  directed  to  put  his  company 
through  the  manual  of  arms,  part  of  which  was  very 
prettily  done.  The  firings  were  unique,  especially  the 
loadings.  Firing  by  company  was  certainly  a  simul¬ 
taneous  performance.  Then  the  captain  “  ordered  arms,” 
and  gave  his  men  another  rest. 

“  You  have  only  given  the  firing  by  company,  captain,” 
said  the  inspector.  “  Let  me  see  them  fire  by  file.” 

“  Well,  colonel,  that’s  something  we’ve  never  prac¬ 
ticed,”  said  the  captain.  “  There’s  nothing  soldierly  in 
that ;  there’s  no  snap  or  unanimity  in  it,  and  it  only 
demoralizes  the  boys  to  give  them  things  that  they  don’t 
do  exactly  together.” 

“  Never  mind,  captain ;  give  the  commands  for  firing 
by  file,  and  let’s  see  what  they  will  do.” 

But  the  captain  didn’t  know  how  to  give  a  command 
for  firing  by  file,  neither  could  he  give  the  commands  for 
the  oblique  firings,  nor  for  firing  kneeling,  and,  fortunately 
for  him,  firing  lying  down  was  not  demanded. 

The  movements  of  the  company  in  columns  of  fours 
and  platoons  were  next  required,  and  here  it  was  found 
that  the  captain,  though  possessing  a  fine  and  ringing 
voice,  was  utterly  independent  of  the  tactics  as  to  his 
commands.  They  were  a  mixture  of  Scott,  Casey,  and 
Knight  Templar  or  broom-brigade  tactics,  Mr.  X.  couldn’t 
tell  which,  and  finally  he  stopped  the  captain  and  told 
him  that  that  was  very  pretty  so  far  as  it  went,  but  that 
■he  would  like  to  see  some  movements  that  would  test  the 
knowledge  of  the  company. 


MILITIA  INSPECTIONS. 


139 


So  long  as  the  company  was  permitted  to  “  gang  its 
ain  gait”  and  put  up  an  exhibition  or  “  go-as-you-please” 
drill,  the  movements  were  certainly  so  smoothly  done  that 
the  array  of  spectators  applauded  vigorously,  and  Captain 
-  looked  flushed  with  success  despite  the  short¬ 
comings  in  the  firings.  Presently  the  company  executed 
on  right  into  line  from  column  of  fours  in  very  pretty 
style.  Each  set  as  it  halted  making  a  soul-stirring  stamp 
that  reminded  Mr.  X.  of  the  hussar  “  orderly”  who  de¬ 
livered  all  the  messages  in  “  La  Grande  Duchesse  de 
Gerolstein.”  Then,  with  a  simultaneous  bang,  arms  were 
brought  to  the  order.  The  room  shook  with  applause, 
and  the  captain,  mopping  the  perspiration  from  his 
brow,  triumphantly  accosted  the  inspector  with,  “  How’s 
that  ?” 

Mr.  X.  thought  it  was  all  very  pretty,  but  ventured  to 
inquire  where  the  stamp  was  found  in  the  pages  of  Upton. 
The  captain  did  not  know,  but  considered  it  an  improve¬ 
ment  on  the  tactics.  “You  don’t  object  to  our  doing 
anything  better  than  the  book,  do  you  ?”  he  asked. 

“  No,”  said  Mr.  X.  “  But  unluckily  the  President  seems 
to  have  a  prejudice  against  it,  and  the  Secretary  of  War — 
two  of  them,  in  fact — prohibits  any  exercise  or  evolution 
not  embraced  in  the  tactics.” 

“  Well,”  answered  the  captain,  “  we  haven’t  introduced 
any  ‘  exercise  or  evolution’  in  that  stamp.  It’s  pretty,  and 
it  pleases  the  boys  and  catches  the  crowd,  like  the  twelve 
counts  in  load.  It  makes  ’em  take  more  pains  with  their 
drill.” 

“  All  the  same,”  responded  Mr.  X.,  “  it  should  not  be 
done,  simply  because  it  isn’t  in  the  tactics.” 

“  Well — but  look  here,  colonel,”  responds  the  crack 


140  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

drill-master  of  Pecatonica  County.  “  I  don’t  question 
your  authority  in  the  least,  and  that  stamp  shall  be 
stopped,  but,  if  you  are  going  to  prohibit  our  doing  any¬ 
thing  on  drill  that  is  not  affirmatively  prescribed  in  the 
tactics,  how  the  mischief  am  I  to  get  the  men’s  heads  up 
again  after  rest  on  arms?  Paragraph  91  don’t  provide 
for  it,  and  if  we  carry  out  that  iron-clad  rule  we’d  have 
the  whole  company  hanging  their  heads  like  so  many 
naughty  boys,  after  they  had  come  to  the  carry.  How 
can  I  get  my  lieutenants  in  front  of  their  platoons  when 
I’m  moving  in  double  time,  company  front,  and  want  to 
break - ” 

The  inspector  fairly  chuckles  :  “  Captain - ,  I’m  de 

lighted  to  see  you  are  so  close  a  student  of  the  tactics. 
Don’t  ask  me  to  supply  their  shortcomings,  but  stick  as 
close  to  the  text  as  you  can  without  being  guilty  of 
manifest  absurdities.  Now,  by  the  way,  I  notice  that  all 
your  movements  have  been  by  the  right  flank.  It  has 
been  fours  right,  right  by  platoons,  on  right  into  line, 
right  forward,  fours  right,  etc.  Now  let  me  see  some 
movements  the  other  way.” 

“  Well,  now,  colonel,  we  never  do  that,”  said  the 
captain,  with  a  laugh.  “You  see  it  kind  o’  breaks  the 
boys  all  up.  You  can  ‘get  there’ just  as  quick  by  the 
right  flank,  and  then  they  always  know  just  what  to 
expect,  and  do  it  in  handsome  style.” 

“  Well,  can  you  ‘get  there’ just  as  quick?  Suppose 
I  tell  you  to  place  your  company  ten  yards  to  the  left 
and  rear  of  its  present  position,  and  facing  in  the  same 
direction,  how  would  you  do  it  in  the  quickest  way  ?” 

“  Face  it  to  the  left.  Then  by  the  left  flank,  march, 
halt,  and  about  face,”  answered  the  captain,  triumphantly. 


MILITIA  INSPECTIONS. 


141 

“  Well,  that  would  certainly  be  one  way  of  doing  it ; 
but  I  meant  that  you  should  utilize  the  sets  of  fours. 
The  tactics  do  not  contemplate  marching  any  distance 
in  a  column  of  files.  Men  are  almost  sure  to  lose 
distance.” 

“Mine  don’t!  They  can  march  a  mile  lock-stepped 
like  so  many  convicts.  Here  !  I’ll  show  you.”  And  the 
captain  whipped  out  his  sword  and  was  about  to  call  his 
company  to  attention,  but  the  inspector  told  him  ocular 
demonstration  would  be  unnecessary  on  that  point. 

“Just  execute  these  movements,  captain;”  and  Mr.  X. 
jotted  down  on  a  card,  “  Fours  left;  then  left  front  into 
line.  Fours  right  about ;  then  left  forward,  fours  left. 
On  left  into  line.  Left  by  platoons  ;  then  form  company 
to  the  front.” 

The  captain  shook  his  head  as  he  looked  at  the  card. 
“  I’ll  try  it,  if  you  say  so,”  he  said ;  “  but  the  boys  will 
think  it’s  mighty  queer.” 

Evidently  they  did,  for  in  two  minutes  the  Rifles  were 
tangled  up  in  a  hard  knot  and  confusion  was  worse  con¬ 
founded.  A  little  later,  when  the  company  was  straight¬ 
ened  out  and  marching  gallantly  in  column  of  fours 
“  right  in  front,”  the  inexorable  inspector  told  the  captain 
to  form  line  to  the  right  front.  Obediently  that  officer 
shouted,  “  Right  front  into  line  !”  but,  true  to  their  years 
of  practice,  the  men  obliqued  to  the  left  and  came  up  on 
the  wrong  flank. 

“  Try  it  again,  sir,”  was  the  order ;  and  this  time, 
though  with  much  hesitation  and  some  disorder,  the  line 
was  formed. 

Up  comes  a  prominent  citizen,  an  old  soldier,  a  gallant 
war  veteran  who  proudly  wears  his  G.A.R.  badge,  and  is 


142 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


a  local  authority  on  all  matters  military.  He  has  been 
loudly  condemning  the  captain’s  astonishing  “  break”  to 
a  knot  of  crestfallen  friends  of  that  officer,  and  the  re¬ 
porter  of  the  local  paper  is  jotting  down  his  words.  A 
young  gentleman  in  the  neat  uniform  of  the  State  Uni¬ 
versity  battalion  ventures  to  put  in  a  word  in  the  captain’s 
defense.  “  It  is  perfectly  right  according  to  tactics,”  he 
says,  “  to  form  line  to  front  either  by  right  or  left  oblique.” 

“Bah!  I  never  heard  of  such  a  thing!  Any  old 
soldier  will  tell  you  that  when  the  right  is  in  front  you 
must  come  up  on  the  left,  and  when  left  is  in  front  you 
come  up  on  the  right.  Here !  I’ll  prove  it  by  the 
colonel,”  he  says  ;  and  a  rest  having  been  ordered  in  the 
mean  time,  the  old  major  comes  up  to  prove  his  point, 
and  the  crowd  follows. 

“  I’ve  just  been  telling  these  gentlemen  the  captain 
made  a  big  mistake  in  several  of  those  orders.  It  was 
his  fault  that  there  was  confusion.  The  company  tried 
to  do  it  right.” 

“  No,  major ;  the  captain’s  orders  were  according  to  the 
present  tactics - ” 

“But  I  learned  my  drill  over  twenty-five  years  ago.  I 
was  in  the  regular  army  before  I  went  in  the  volunteers, 
and  I  know  it’s  wrong.” 

Mr.  X.  has  no  time  to  explain  that  he,  too,  learned  the 
drill  twenty-five  years  ago,  and  was  in  the  regular  army. 
The  veteran  shouts  his  views  for  the  benefit  of  his  fellow- 
citizens  and  then  bursts  indignantly  through  the  crowd 
and  makes  his  way  out  of  the  building.  It  is  his  con¬ 
viction,  and  doubtless  that  of  the  populace,  that  the  in¬ 
spector  is  an  ignoramus  who  knows  nothing  whatever  of 
the  tactics.  Indeed,  the  reporter  is  all  prepared  to  “  show 


MILITIA  INSPECTIONS. 


M3 


him  up”  in  the  local  paper,  but,  luckily  for  the  reputation 
of  that  unfortunate  officer,  the  editor  himself  is  a  looker- 
on,  and  it  occurs  to  him  to  make  some  inquiries  and  to 
“  search  the  scriptures  military.” 

There  is  no  parade  to  the  music  of  Zimmerman’s  band, 
no  speech-making  at  Schlaeger’s,  no  cheering  the  in¬ 
spector.  He  leaves  town  to  go  to  the  next  station,  leaving 
behind  him  a  community  impressed  with  the  idea  that  he 
has  put  their  pet  company  in  a  very  wrong  light,  and 
knows  nothing  whatever  of  his  business. 

But  next  year  the  Rifles  drill  just  as  well  by  the  left 
as  by  the  right  flank.  The  men  have  found  out  there  are 
two  ends  to  the  company  and  that  there  is  a  heap  more 
to  the  tactics  than  was  supposed.  The  inspector  is  re¬ 
ceived  without  enthusiasm,  of  course,  for  the  populace 
maintains  that  he  has  just  ruined  the  drill  of  that  com¬ 
pany.  u  They  used  to  come  to  every  motion  of  the  load 
exactly  together.  They  could  fix  and  unfix  bayonets 
just  click,  click,  click — like  that.  It  was  ten  times  better 
then  than  it  is  now,  and  they  would  stand  no  chance 
whatever  in  a  competitive  drill.” 

Distinctly,  then,  in  standing  up  for  the  abolition  of  all 
the  old  militia  ways,  Mr.  X.  was  undergoing  the  trials  of 
the  reformer  as  well  as  one  of  those  of  the  staff-officer. 
Pretty  much  every  company  had  some  especial  “  fad” 
which  it  had  long  cherished  and  was  bound  to  protect  at 
all  hazards.  Most  of  them  had  a  beautiful  flag, — pre¬ 
sented  by  the  ladies,  or  voted  at  a  fair,  or  won  at  a  com¬ 
petitive  drill, — and  they  wanted  to  parade  this  flag  at 
inspection,  color-guard  and  all,  and  could  not  cheerfully 
acquiesce  in  the  ruling  that  only  on  battalion  formation 
could  colors  be  allowed,  and  then  only  one.  Another 


144 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


company  turned  out  in  white  cravats,  the  bows  tied  out¬ 
side  the  dress-coat,  and  swore  they  had  “  regular  army 
authority  for  it.”  O  ye  regulars !  How  was  it,  what 
hapless  inspiration  possessed  ye,  that  no  less  than  eight 
officers  of  a  gallant  regiment  should  have  had  their 
cabinet-sized  photos  taken — each  man  in  full  uniform — 
with  a  white  cravat  tied  outside  the  coat  ?  Mr.  X.  recog¬ 
nized  the  pictures,  but  refused  to  recognize  the  authority. 
The  officers  of  another  company  appeared  in  mounted 
officers’  helmet  cords,  and  said  the  by-laws  of  the  com¬ 
pany  authorized  it;  others  wore  buff  gauntlets  on  foot 
duty.  A  favorite  manoeuvre  of  some  organizations  was 
to  open  files  in  column  of  fours  and  then  at  the  command 
“  Knapsack  rest!”  carry  the  rifle  horizontally  at  the  back 
of  the  neck,  both  hands  holding  it  in  that  position.  Of 
course  there  were  a  dozen  accurately  and  admirably 
drilled  companies,  but  it  was  uphill  work  to  try  and 
eradicate  all  these  and  a  thousand  other  “  milish”  pecu¬ 
liarities  from  the  others.  The  adjutant-general  was 
backing  the  inspector  just  as  far  as  he  could,  however, 
and  knew  far  better  than  did  Mr.  X.  the  difficulties  in  the 
way.  Whenever  the  latter  had  occasion  to  “  score”  an 
organization  pretty  heavily,  its  friends,  especially  if  it 
happened  to  be  commanded  by  German  officers,  would 
immediately  rush  to  the  governor  and  complain  and  even 
threaten.  “  The  boys  won’t  stand  it,”  they  said,  and  it 
was  intimated  pretty  plainly  that  if  the  staff-officer  was 
allowed  to  find  fault  with  the  “  Germanias”  or  the  “  Bis¬ 
marck  Guards”  or  the  “  Prinz  Karl  Rifles”  the  old 
governor  need  look  for  no  “  votes”  from  their  districts 
if  he  came  up  for  re-election,  and  that  astute  feeler  of  the 
public  pulse  was  not  a  little  discomposed. 


MILITIA  INSPECTIONS. 


145 


Once,  after  an  exhibition  of  almost  total  ignorance  of 
the  tactics  on  part  of  the  captain  and  lieutenants  of  one 
of  these  commands,  the  inspector  was  cautioned  by  a 
civil  official  to  “  be  very  careful  what  he  said  about  that 

company.  They  are  all  but  three  of  them - and  the 

official  gave  the  name  of  the  political  party  then  in  power. 
Mr.  X.  said  he  could  not  see  what  that  had  to  do  with 
the  question  of  their  efficiency  or  non-efficiency  as  State 
troops,  and  the  gentleman  replied  that  while  it  should 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  question,  it  did  have  a  great 
deal. 

Another  officer,  found  to  be  grievously  ignorant  of  the 
tactics,  excused  himself,  because  his  men  “  were  working¬ 
men  and  couldn’t  get  around.”  Mr.  X.  pointed  out  that 
the  best-instructed  company  in  the  district,  if  not  in  the 
State,  was  made  up  entirely  of  workingmen,  and  that  in 
any  event  that  was  no  excuse  for  the  captain’s  ignorance 
of  his  own  duties but  the  reply  was  too  much  for  the 
inspector. 

“  Well,  you  see  it’s  this  way,  colonel :  I’m  so  worried 
all  the  time  lest  they  should  go  wrong  that  I  can’t  think 
of  my  own  commands.” 

Then  what  a  time  we  had  when  getting  rid  of  the  tail 
coat !  What  a  “  kick”  there  was  when  first  it  was  an¬ 
nounced  that  new  companies  must  adopt  the  uniform  of 
the  regular  service  and  nothing  else,  and  old  companies 
would  be  required  to  provide  themselves  therewith  as 
soon  as  their  original  dress  should  be  worn  out!  Yet 
when  those  neat,  soldierly,  dark-blue  tunics  with  the 
white  pipings  and  facings  appeared  on  guard  and  parade 
in  camp,  the  prejudice  disappeared.  Three  and  four 

years  ago  the  cry  was  that  “  they  were  trying  to  make  us 
g  k  13 


146 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


like  regulars.”  Two  years  ago  they  themselves  were 
beginning  to  try  to  look  like  regulars,  and  could  not  fast 
enough  learn  to  carry  themselves  as  befitted  their  new 
dress.  And  finally,  last  year,  in  his  report  to  the  Secre¬ 
tary  of  War,  based  on  the  observations  of  a  most  ac¬ 
complished  regular  sent  to  observe  the  work  of  each 
regiment  in  camp,  the  adjutant-general  of  the  army  was 
able  to  incorporate  these  words :  “  I  believe  that  the 
Wisconsin  National  Guard  will  compare  favorably  with 
any  State  troops  in  the  country.  The  personnel  of  the 
troops  is  excellent.  The  officers  composing  the  staff  of 

the  governor - ”  But  spare  our  blushes.  “  Most  of 

the  regimental  field-officers  also  saw  service  in  our  late 
war.  The  company  officers  are  mostly  young  men, — 
zealous,  active,  and  efficient.” 

Last  year  when  General  Sherman  rode  along  the  line 
of  neatly-clad  infantry,  cavalry,  and  artillery,  all  in  dark- 
blue  service  dress,  with  only  white  helmets  and  white 
gloves  to  break  the  sombre  effect  of  the  utter  lack  of 
plume  or  tinsel,  and  saw  among  their  officers  men  who 
had  followed  him  to  Atlanta  and  the  sea,  he  said  they 
looked  for  all  the  world  “  like  business,”  and  that  has 
been  our  end  and  aim  for  years  past. 


MILITIA  CAMPS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 


147 


* 


MILITIA  CAMPS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 

We  turn  now  from  the  inspections  required  of  each 
individual  company  by  the  State  laws,  and  come  to  their 
performance  under  canvas  when  assembled  by  battalion. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  we  could  extract  from  our 
legislators  a  sum  for  the  purchase  of  sufficient  tentage 
for  the  encampment  of  a  ten-company  regiment;  and 
that  it  was  finally  obtained  for  the  purposes  of  the  Na¬ 
tional  Guard  was  an  achievement  made  possible  only,  it 
would  seem,  by  the  agreement  that  the  tents  should  at 
all  other  times  be  at  the  service  of  the  omnipotent  Grand 
Army  of  the  Republic.  The  reasons  for  this  assertion 
will  appear  later  on.  Camp  equipage  at  last  having  been 
obtained, — wall  tents  of  excellent  size  and  quality  for 
line  officers  and  men,  hospital  tents  for  the  field  and  staff, 
— the  next  thing  was  to  decide  the  matter  of  camp¬ 
grounds.  By  this  time  the  infantry  had  been  organized 
into  three  ten-company  regiments  and  one  battalion,  the 
regimental  districts  being  mapped  out  with  g,  view  to 
rapid  mobilization, — the  First  Regiment  along  the  south¬ 
ern  border  of  the  State,  the  Second  along  the  eastern 
upper  half,  the  Third  the  western  upper  half,  and  the 
Fourth,  a  four-company  battalion,  being  stationed  in  the 
metropolis. 

It  was  decided  by  the  powers  that  were  that,  for  the 
time  being,  regiments  should  encamp  within  their  dis¬ 
tricts  and  on  such  tracts  as  could  be  found  in  the  neigh- 


148 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


borhood  of  the  large  towns  or  cities.  The  first  year’s 
encampments  were  largely  experimental,  for  Mr  X.’s 
share  in  them  was  confined  to  the  practical  instruction 
of  the  cavalry  troop,  an  unusually  good  one.  But  the 
camps  resulted  in  the  retirement  of  one  or  two  war  vet¬ 
erans  who,  it  was  only  too  evident,  looked  upon  the 
whole  matter  as  a  huge  joke.  The  year  following,  at 
the  invitation  of  the  adjutant-general,  Mr.  X.  accom¬ 
panied  him  on  his  rounds  of  the  different  camps  for  the 
purpose  of  conveying  such  practical  instruction  as  was 
necessary,  and  before  he  had  been  at  it  an  hour,  the  dis¬ 
covery  was  made  that  a  big  job  had  been  loaded  on  his 
shoulders.  Officers  and  non-commissioned  officers,  as 
a  rule,  wanted  to  know  how  things  should  be  done,  and 
were  quite  willing  to  learn,  provided  little  time  for  prac¬ 
tice  was  necessary.  There  were  some,  to  be  sure,  who 
came  to  camp  perfect  gluttons  for  work  and  instruction, 
— could  not  get  enough  of  it.  Others,  and  rather  a  large 
number,  looked  upon  the  thing  in  the  light  of  a  social 
picnic,  and  wanted  to  spend  hours  in  showing  their 
friends  about  the  camp,  or  in  visiting  them  at  their  homes 
in  town.  And  herein  was  encountered  the  first  lesson. 

The  regimental  officers  were  allowed  to  select  the 
place  of  encampment,  as  has  been  said,  from  among  the 
towns  and  cities  of  their  own  district,  and  the  choice 
went,  as  a  rule,  to  the  “  highest  bidder.”  The  State  pro¬ 
vided  tents;  but  fuel,  straw,  board-floors,  bedding,  po¬ 
licing  camps,  expenses  of  band,  cooks,  kitchens,  etc., 
had  all  to  be  borne  by  the  regiment.  It  was  represented 
to  the  towns-people  that  the  presence  of  the  regiment  in 
camp  would  draw  a  big  crowd  from  the  surrounding 
country,  and  thereby  boom  the  local  markets.  The 


r 


MILITIA  CAMPS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  149 

bankers,  brewers,  “  butchers,  bakers,  and  candlestick- 
makers”  were  therefore  invited  to  contribute  to  an  en¬ 
campment  fund,  as  a  return  for  which  the  regiment  agreed 
to  make  a  street  parade  on  at  least  one  day,  and  have 
attractive  military  exercises  going  on  in  the  camp  at  all 
times.  Whatever  Mr.  X.  may  have  thought  of  this  way 
of  conducting  military  operations,  he  had  to  make  the 
best  of  it,  and  work  as  well  as  he  could  with  the  tools  in 
hand.  The  first  lesson  was  somewhat  memorable.  The 
Third,  a  fine,  large  regiment,  was  in  camp ;  he  had  wit¬ 
nessed  the  review  and  dress-parade,  and  then,  at  officers’ 
school,  was  called  upon  to  point  out  the  errors.  The 
general  effect  had  been  very  good,  but  individual  errors 
had  been  many. 

Seated  in  a  semicircle  around  the  colonel’s  tent  were 
now  the  officers  of  the  regiment.  Within  the  marquee 
was  the  governor  with  a  dozen  prominent  personages, 
and  fifteen  to  twenty  deep  around  the  officers  was  a  dense 
crowd  of  towns-people,  rustics,  and  the  rank  and  file  of 
the  regiment,  all  good-naturedly  and  cheerily  interested 
in  the  coming  proceedings.  The  adjutant- general  briefly 
explained  what  he  had  called  upon  Mr.  X.  to  do,  and 
Mr.  X.,  trying  not  to  look  aghast,  inquired  if  it  was  ex¬ 
pected  that  he  should  proceed  to  make  his  criticism  of 
the  officers  in  the  face  of  that  great  crowd,  and  was  told 
that  there  did  not  seem  to  be  any  way  of  getting  rid  of 
them.  He  next  asked  the  colonel  commanding  if  school 
couldn’t  adjourn  to  the  space  in  rear  of  his  tent,  and  four 
or  five  sentries  be  sent  to  keep  it  clear.  “  Certainly  it 
can  be,  if  you  like;  but  the  crowd  will  come  too,  if  that 
is  what  you  are  thinking  about.  Go  right  ahead,  colonel ; 
sail  right  into  them,  right  here and,  there  being  no 

13* 


150 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


help  for  it,  Mr.  X.  sailed  in  accordingly.  The  first  thing 
was  to  point  out  to  the  officers  that  most  of  them  had 
their  swords  on  “  wrong  side  before”  at  this  moment, 
the  guard  being  to  the  rear  instead  of  to  the  front,  as  it 
should  be  with  the  three-ringed  scabbard.  Next,  that 
very  few  of  them  looked  towards  the  reviewing  officer 
in  passing ;  then,  that  few  had  executed  the  first  motion 
of  the  “  present”  at  the  command,  and  that  most  of  them 
had  saluted  with  the  hand  in  tierce  instead  of  quarte,  as 
prescribed  by  the  tactics  when  they  lowered  their  blade. 
“  Take  my  sword  and  show  them  how  it  should  be  done,” 
requested  the  adjutant-general;  and  Mr.  X.  illustrated. 

Now,  many  readers  have  doubtless  been  to  see  the 
great  cycloramas  of  Gettysburg,  Mission  Ridge,  Atlanta, 
Shiloh,  Bull  Run,  etc.,  and  have  listened  to  the  lecturer 
when  he  made  his  explanation  of  the  paintings.  Their 
luck  has  been  better  than  that  of  Mr.  X.  if  they  have  not 
at  least  once  or  twice  been  compelled  to  hear  sarcastic 
interruptions  on  the  part  of  some  grizzled  veteran  with 
watery  eyes,  weather-beaten  nose,  a  Grand  Army  of  the 
Republic  badge  on  his  manly  breast,  and  an  expression 
of  profound  contempt  on  his  countenance.  On  no  less 
than  three  occasions  has  Mr.  X.  known  the  lecturer  to  be 
compelled  to  cease  his  flow  of  eloquence  and  request 
silence  on  the  part  of  the  veteran  who  was  interrupting 
him  with  remarks  to  the  effect  that  “  It  was  the  Two 
Hundred  and  Twentieth  Illinois  (or  the  Five  Hundred 
and  Eleventh  Pennsylvania)  that  took  that  battery ;  it 
wasn’t  the  Two  Hundred  and  Fiftieth  New  York  at  all. 
I  know  it ;  I  was  there ;  I  was  the  first  man  in  that  bat¬ 
tery,”  etc.  You  have  all  heard  the  old  saying  of  the 
white  horse  and  the  red-headed  girl.  Mr.  X.  never  goes 


MILITIA  CAMPS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  1 5  I 

to  one  of  those  lectures  now  without  looking  around  for 
the  interrupter  as  soon  as  the  lecturer  begins.  And  so 
with  his  own  first  practical  lecture  to  the  officers  of  the 
Third  Regiment.  No  sooner  had  he  shown  the  position 
of  the  sword  in  the  salute  than  up  spoke  a  grizzled  vet¬ 
eran  in  the  crowd,  “  That  ain’t  the  way  we  done  it,  by 
thunder !”  The  crowd  tittered,  and  the  governor’s  be¬ 
nevolent  features  relaxed  into  a  broad  smile  (out  West, 
where  the  old-soldier  element  is  far  stronger  in  propor¬ 
tion  to  population  than  in  the  East,  it  is  always  the  safe 
thing  for  the  politician  to  laugh  with  the  Grand  Army  of 
the  Republic-man).  The  colonel  commanding  looked 
vexed,  and  undoubtedly  he  was  thinking  that  this  was 
hardly  the  proper  place  in  which  to  conduct  an  officers’ 
school,  but,  what  was  to  be  done  ?  He  arose  and  said, 
“  The  crowd  will  please  keep  order;  Colonel  X.  is  in¬ 
structing  these  gentlemen  in  the  proper  handling  of  their 
swords,  and  must  not  be  interrupted.” 

“  Let  him  do  it  right,  then,”  says  a  veteran  in  the 
throng;  “you  can’t  teach  me  nothin’,  by  thunder!  I  am 
a  man  of  war,  I  am.  I  have  fought  in  sixteen  pitched 
battles.  I  ain’t  any  damn  play-soldier,  either,”  etc. 

The  veteran  unquestionably  holds  the  fort.  It’s  the 
first  audience,  perhaps,  he  has  had  since  the  day  he  was 
mustered  out,  and  he  does  not  propose  to  lose  the  occa¬ 
sion.  The  crowd  is  with  him  ;  so,  evidently,  is  the  com- 
mander-in-chief.  It’s  no  use  explaining  to  the  three  sur¬ 
rounding  counties  that  the  tactics  require  the  backs  of 
the  hands  to  be  down  instead  of  up  in  the  salute  with 
the  sword  ;  if  the  tactics  say  so  they  are  all  wrong.  The 
veteran  of  sixteen  pitched  battles  “  knows  a  damn  sight 
better,”  as  he  says,  and  as  he  does  not  hesitate  to  say. 


152 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


We  got  through  with  the  officers’  school  that  morning  in 
rather  a  fragmentary  way,  and  it  was  the  same  thing  in 
teaching  practically  their  various  duties  in  the  afternoon, 
or  when  sounding  the  different  calls  for  the  drummers. 
The  crowd  and  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic-man 
swarmed  over  the  camp  and  took  full  possession.  There 
was  no  use  in  “  kicking  against  the  pricks.”  Of  course 
Mr.  X.  could  and  did  suggest  to  the  colonel  commanding 
that  the  populace  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  roam  all  over 
camp  at  all  hours  of  the  day,  and  that  enlisted  men  should 
be  kept  aloof  from  the  officers’  schools,  but  the  people 
didn’t  think  so,  and  that  settled  it  for  the  time  being. 

Before  camp  was  over  we  had  things  in  better  shape. 
There  were  hours  when  the  officers  could  be  assembled 
in  the  rear  of  the  colonel’s  tent  and  drilled  practically  in 
all  manner  of  points  in  which  they  needed  instruction. 
But  during  the  first  two  or  three  years  of  our  State  en¬ 
campments  the  colonels  could  not  be  brought  to  issue 
and  enforce  the  orders  by  which  the  camp  and  the 
parade-grounds  should  be  kept  free  from  incursions  on 
the  part  of  the  populace.  Of  course  the  Grand  Army  of 
the  Republic-man  was  there  in  force  on  all  occasions, 
giving  the  crowd  the  benefit  of  his  views  as  to  the  absurd¬ 
ity  of  trying  to  make  soldiers  nowadays  anyhow.  “  Me 
and  a  half  a  dozen  of  the  old  boys  could  clean  out  this 
whole  outfit,”  would  be  his  frequent  assertion.  Clamor¬ 
ing  aloud,  too,  to  the  colonel  to  show  them  how  to  “  form 
square”  on  battalion  drill,  and  when  civilly  informed  by 
that  officer  that  no  such  movement  was  known  to  modern 
tactics,  loudly  proclaiming  his  contempt  for  a  regiment 
that  didn’t  know  how  to  form  square.  “  Give  me  your 
sword,  and  I’ll  show  ’em  how.” 


MILITIA  CAMPS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 


153 


Mr.  X.  used  to  ride  around  and  watch  all  this,  and 
laugh  until  his  sides  were  sore,  but  powerless,  of  course, 
except  by  advice,  to  bring  about  a  better  state  of  things. 
A  year  later,  when  vested  with  some  authority  in  the 
premises,  he  caused  cr;ders  to  be  issued  that  no  “  out¬ 
siders”  should  be  allowed  in  the  body  of  camp  except 
between  parade  and  tattoo,  and  that  enlisted  men  should 
not  appear  in  rear  of  their  company  officers’  tents  except 
when  summoned  thither  on  duty.  In  this  way  we  had 
some  order  in  camp,  and  a  certain  degree  of  privacy  at 
the  officers’  schools,  but — at  what  a  cost !  One  day  a 
pompous  old  Teuton  drove  his  buggy  straight  up  to  the 
sentry’s  post  and  was  going  on  into  camp,  when  the 
guard  seized  and  held  his  horse.  “County  judge,”  he 
shouted,  but  to  no  avail.  The  officer  of  the  guard  civilly 
told  him  that  even  officers  of  the  regiment  could  not 
drive  in  there ;  they  must  go  around  to  a  designated 
point  in  rear  of  the  field-officer’s  tent,  and  offered  to 
escort  him  thither.  But  the  old  man  was  furious ;  it 
seems  that  he  was  rarely  in  his  sober  senses,  and  no  ex¬ 
planation  availed.  He  owned  a  newspaper,  and  to  the 
office  thereof  he  drove  in  hot  haste ;  and  the  very  next 
issue  of  that  paper  was  one  continuous  lampooning  of  the 
colonel  commanding  and  of  Mr.  X.  Of  course,  there 
were  many  in  the  populace  who  sympathized  with  him. 
Nine-tenths  of  the  men,  women,  and  children  saw  no 
reason  at  all  why  they  should  not  be  strolling  around  the 
tents  at  all  hours  of  the  day,  or  at  night  either,  for  that 
matter;  nor  was  it  solely  among  the  “  middle  and  lower 
classes”  that  this  idea  prevailed.  Will  Mr.  X.  ever  for¬ 
get  one  lovely  summer  morning,  when  the  cavalry  were 
in  camp  on  the  shore  of  our  most  picturesque  Jake.  The 


154 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


trumpet  had  just  sounded  the  first  call  for  reveille.  He 
wanted  to  see  in  what  shape  the  men  fell  in  for  roll-call, 
and  Mr.  X.  tumbled  out  of  his  blankets,  and,  fortunately, 
into  boots  and  breeches  before  stepping  into  the  front 
portion  of  his  abode,  which  was  a  large  double  wall-tent 
overlooking  the  company’s  street.  Here,  to  his  dismay, 
were  seated  two  prominent  society  ladies,  under  the 
escort  of  the  pastor  of  their  church.  “Ah,  Mr.  X.,’’  said 
the  imperturbable  ecclesiastic,  “  good-morning ;  these 
ladies  have  seen  so  much  of  the  pomp  and  circumstance 
of  glorious  war  that  they  were  eager  to  have  an  idea  of  a 
little  of  the  stern  reality,  and  I  bantered  them  into  an 
early  visit.”  Stern  reality,  indeed !  There  were  the 
troopers  tumbling  out  of  their  blankets  in  all  manner  of 
costumes  except  full  dress.  Mr.  X.  himself  could  only 
dodge  back  into  his  own  sanctum  for  another  garment 
or  two,  all  the  while  inwardly  expressing  his  views  as  to 
the  lack  of  common  sense  in  the  church  militant.  He 
never  could  say  what  he  thought  of  the  gentleman  him¬ 
self, — he  who  piloted  that  party  in  search  of  the  stern 
realities  of  camp  life, — but  what  didn’t  he  say  to  the  sen¬ 
try  who  had  let  them  enter  before  morning  gun-fire? 
Some  of  the  oddest  “  breaks”  made  by  our  officers,  by 
the  way,  must  be  laid  at  the  door  of  the  chaplain.  One 
most  excellent  divine  having  announced  his  intentions  of 
attending  camp  with  the  regiment,  was  assigned  to  a 
tent  with  the  field  and  staff.  Fancy  the  consternation  of 
the  colonel  and  the  sensations  of  Mr.  X.  when  the  rev¬ 
erend  gentleman  marched  in  with  his  wife  and  three 
daughters,  and  gravely  proceeded  to  furnish  the  tent  for 
their  occupation.  Mr.  X.  had  no  authority  here;  the 
colonel  expressed  to  every  one  of  the  officers- -but  the 


) 


MILITIA  CAMPS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 


155 


chaplain — his  astonishment  at  the  proceeding,  yet  had 
not  the  grit  to  point  out  the  impropriety  thereof  to  the 
gentleman  himself.  The  chaplain’s  family  slept  in  camp 
the  entire  week,  and  doubtless  learned  a  great  deal  about 
the  art  of  war  which  they  had  never  dreamed  of  previ¬ 
ously.  Yet  the  old  gentleman  was  not  so  much  ta 
blame.  He  had  heard  what  was  the  actual  case,  that  in 
some  of  the  regiments  the  colonels  had  been  accom¬ 
panied  by  their  wives  and  family,  and  doubtless  held  that 
the  presence  of  the  fair  sex  would  have  a  restraining  in¬ 
fluence  on  the  language  of  the  camp,  as  indeed  it  would, 
could  everybody  but  remember  at  all  times  that  the 
ladies  were  right  there  within  hearing.  But  unluckily 
most  men  were  too  busy  and  had  too  many  other  things 
to  think  of  to  keep  that  perpetually  in  mind.  How  odd 
it  seemed  to  Mr.  X.  to  note  the  furnishing  of  the  field- 
officers’  tents  in  those  days, — big  bedsteads,  bureaus, 
mirrors,  carpets,  centre-tables,  and  “  what-nots.”  But  it 
had  to  be,  so  said  the  officers,  so  long  as  we  camp 
around  the  towns  and  cities,  and  so  it  resulted  that,  at 
one  of  the  State  conventions  five  or  six  years  ago,  Mr. 
X.  urged  the  purchase  of  a  tract  of  land  in  the  centre  of 
the  State,  at  least  ten  miles  from  any  town,  and  at  last, 
and  only  a  year  ago,  we  got  it.*  But  before  that  time 
came  our  camps  had  steadily  become  more  soldierly  and 
our  sentries  more  like  the  real  article.  Guard  duty  is, 
after  all,  the  hardest  thing  to  teach  new  troops,  and  an 
immense  amount  of  labor  and  patience  is  required.  Mr. 
X.  thought  we  had  some  remarkably  well-informed 
officers  by  the  time  the  third  summer  came,  and  you  can 


*  In  1888. 


156  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

fancy  his  amazement  when,  one  morning,  a  sudden 
shower  came  pouring  down  ;  the  corporal  of  the  guard 
started  out  with  a  rush,  and  the  next  thing  anybody 
knew,  he  had  whisked  off  the  entire  relief,  every  blessed 
sentry  on  post,  and  came  running  into  the  guard-tents 
with  them  at  double-quick.  Mr.  X.  went  down  to  those 
guard-tents  in  seven-league  boots,  and  the  officer  of  the 
day  received  him  with  a  bland  smile,  and  was  evidently 
pleased  with  the  rapidity  with  which  the  corporal  had 
performed  the  feat.  He  frankly  confessed  that  he  had 
ordered  the  relief  taken  off  for  the  fear  of  spoiling  their 
uniforms,  and  was  rather  astonished  at  the  order  by 
which  the  relief  was  immediately  reposted,  and  in  double 
time  too. 

At  another  camp,  and  in  another  regiment,  the  officer 
of  the  day  was  missing.  The  colonel  was  asked  if  he 
had  given  him  permission  to  leave  camp.  No.  Never¬ 
theless  the  guards  were  positive  that  the  officer  had 
gone  “  over  to  the  park,”  indicating  a  pleasure  resort 
some  little  distance  away,  and  there,  to  be  sure,  he  was 
found,  having  a  pleasant  time  with  some  civilian  friends, 
and  professing  total  ignorance  of  any  military  impro¬ 
priety  in  the  performance. 

Once  in  a  while  we  had  some  experiences  that  were 
purely  laughable  and  that  did  us  all  good.  Perhaps  the 
best  of  these  was  one  that  occurred  at  the  camp  of  the 
Third  Regiment,  at  Chippewa  Falls,  where  we  had  a  fine 
ground,  excellent  arrangements,  and  most  agreeable 
neighbors  in  the  people  of  this  thriving  little  city.  Un¬ 
luckily  it  stormed  furiously  most  of  the  week,  and  all  of 
the  roads  and  fields  were  speedily  turned  into  quagmires. 
Everything  had  been  arranged  for  a  ball,  which  was  to 


MILITIA  CAMPS  OF  INSTRUCTION. 


157 


occur  on  the  last  evening  of  our  stay ;  and  as  the  time 
drew  nigh,  the  mayor  and  his  committee  were  fluttering 
about  enveloped  in  water-proofs  and  a  not  unnatural 
state  of  excitement.  It  had  been  settled  that  six  car¬ 
riages,  all  that  could  be  obtained  for  so  perilous  a  service 
as  the  frequent  transit  from  camp  to  town  over  such  fear¬ 
ful  roads,  were  to  leave  camp  at  8  p.m.  with  the  mayor, 
the  committee,  and  such  officers  as  were  ready,  and 
then  be  sent  back  for  another  load.  It  was  estimated 
that  in  three  trips  all  the  officers  in  camp,  including  the 
governor’s  staff,  could  be  thus  transported  to  the  hall 
where  the  ball  was  to  take  place.  About  sixteen  “young¬ 
sters”  went  off  with  the  first  round.  Then  the  mayor 
and  committee  waited  for  the  array  of  generals  and 
colonels  expected  with  the  next.  Nine  o’clock  came ; 
nine  thirty ;  the  ball  was  waiting,  but  not  another  officer 
appeared,  and  “  His  Honor”  was  rabid  with  excitement. 
None  of  the  carriages  had  returned  to  the  hall ;  yet  an 
inquiry  developed  the  fact  that  big  loads  had  been 
brought  in  town,  and  deposited  at  a  neighboring  hotel. 
The  mayor  darted  around  there  through  the  pitiless 
storm,  but  not  an  officer  was  to  be  found.  The  billiard- 
room  and  the  parlors  were  packed  with  jovial  non-com¬ 
missioned  officers  and  privates  on  pass  apparently,  but 
not  a  shoulder-strap  was  visible.  At  last,  at  ten  o’clock, 
some  drenched  jehus  drove  up  to  the  hall  with  panting 
and  bedraggled  steeds,  and  a  number  of  gold-laced  offi¬ 
cials  stepped  solemnly  forth  from  the  dripping  carriages. 

“  What  on  earth  has  kept  you  all  this  time  ?”  de¬ 
manded  the  mayor. 

“  I  am  sure  I  cannot  tell,”  said  one  of  the  generals. 
“  We  waited  nearly  two  hours  for  carriages.” 

14 


i58 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


“  Great  Caesar’s  ghost !  driver,  didn’t  I  tell  you  to  go 
right  back  to  camp  and  load  up  those  officers,  until  you 
had  them  all  here  ?” 

“  Certainly  you  did,  Mr.  Mayor,  I  have  been  hauling 
colonels  and  majors  through  the  mud  until  this  town 
must  be  just  busting  with  them.  You  said  I  could  do  it 
all  in  three  trips.  Damn  me,  if  I  ain’t  made  a  dozen. 
My  poor  horses  are  all  tuckered  out.” 

And  then  at  last  it  all  leaked  out.  The  night  was 
dark  as  pitch.  The  moment  the  drivers  got  back  to 
camp,  and  before  they  could  get  within  fifty  yards  of  the 
head-quarters  tents,  they  were  stopped  by  a  host  of 
gentlemen  with  the  capes  of  their  overcoats  drawn  up 
over  their  heads,  and  (in  the  Badger  State  officers  and 
men  of  the  line  wore  overcoats  of  the  same  pattern  and 
finish)  a  martial  voice  hailed  them  with  “  Here  we  are, 
driver ;  stop  just  where  you  are ;  jump  in,  major;  tumble 
in,  colonel ;  tumble  in - ” 

“  Oh !  after  you,  general ;  I  beg -  After  you.” 

“  Not  at  all,  sir ;  not  at  all ;  it  is  too  wet  to  fool  about 
trifles;  jump  in;  jump  in.  Load  up  those  other  car¬ 
riages  now,  fast  as  you  can.  Now  to  the  hotel  with  this 
crowd  as  quick  as  you  can  get  there.” 

And  in  this  way  the  jolly  sergeants,  corporals,  and 
rank  and  file  of  the  gallant  Third  had  loaded  up  carriage 
after  carriage  as  it  arrived  in  camp,  while  their  superiors 
waited,  with  such  patience  as  they  possessed,  among  the 
dismal,  dripping,  tents  of  officers’  row. 

The  joke  might  have  gone  on  until  the  camp  was 
empty  of  enlisted  men  had  it  not  become  too  big  to  be 
kept;  and  finally  the  officer  of  the  guard  discovered 
that  he  had  been  passing  out  about  one  hundred  of 


MILITIA  CAMPS  OF  INSTRUCTION.  1 59 

the  rank  and  file  for  carriage-loads  of  commissioned 
officers. 

As  there  was  only  tentage  enough  for  one  regiment,  it 
followed  that  our  canvas  had  to  be  shipped  from  point  to 
point  about  the  State,  and  in  this  way  some  loss  was 
bound  to  occur.  All  marking,  cutting,  or  defacing  of 
the  canvas  in  any  way  was  of  course  strictly  forbidden, 
and  both  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  each  regimental 
camp  it  was  Mr.  X.’s  custom  to  make  the  rounds  to 
inspect  tents  for  the  purpose  of  fixing  responsibility  in 
case  of  damage.  At  first,  of  course,  in  the  exuberance 
of  their  spirits,  “  the  boys,”  as  they  preferred  to  call 
themselves,  would  decorate  by  means  of  candle-smoke, 
or  crayons,  their  camp  abode  with  certain  inscriptions, 
such  as  “  Saints’  Rest,”  “  Drummers’  Delight,”  “  The 
Wicked  Four,”  etc. ;  but  one  summer  seemed  to  suffice 
to  teach  them  better.  Two  years  afterwards,  just  before 
striking  tents  at  the  tap  of  the  drum,  as  had  been  taught 
the  men,  Mr.  X.,  in  company  with  the  colonel  and  his 
quartermaster,  inspected  every  tent  in  camp,  and  found 
them  all  clean,  in  good  condition,  with  the  exception  of 
some  old  marks  which  were  well  known  and  recognized. 
What  was  his  surprise,  therefore,  two  weeks  afterwards, 
when  making  the  rounds  the  first  day  of  the  camp  of 
another  regiment,  to  find  that  a  number  of  the  tents  had 
been  defaced  in  a  very  flagrant  way,  and  a  number  of  in¬ 
scriptions,  far  from  elegant,  appeared  all  over  the  canvas. 
There  was  only  one  way  of  explaining  it :  When  not  in 
use  by  the  National  Guard  the  tents  were  shipped  from 
one  part  of  the  State  to  another,  in  order  to  let  the  old 
“  Grand  Army”  boys  have  their  camp-fires,  reunions,  and 
post  camps, — and  the  manner  in  which  they  were  deco- 


i6o 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


rated  by  the  veterans  was  a  sight  to  see.  Mr.  X.  made 
this  circumstance  rather  a  prominent  feature  in  his  report 
of  the  summer  encampments  of  that  year,  but  that  was 
one  portion  of  his  report  which  never  found  its  way  in 
print.  This  is  why  he  said  earlier  in  this  article  that  it 
seemed  only  on  condition  the  camp  equipage  should  be 
at  the  service  of  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic  that 
it  was  possible  to  secure  an  appropriation  for  its  purchase 
by  the  State.  Goodness  knows  they  were  welcome  to 
it  fifty  times  over,  if  they  would  only  return  it  in  proper 
shape. 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


j6i 


SHAM  BATTLES. 

How  many  readers  have  had  the  experience,  good  or 
ill,  of  taking  part  in  furious  combat  under  what  Dickens 
described  as  a  “  galling  fire  of  blank  cartridges,”  and 
helping  some  State  fair,  “  grand  military  pageant,”  or 
similar  catchpenny  enterprise,  to  stagger  to  its  legs,  res¬ 
cued  from  the  “  snowing  under”  it  doubtless  deserved  by 
the  promise  of  “  the  whole  to  conclude  with  a  realistic 
and  magnificent  sham  battle  by  the  entire  assembled 
force, — regulars,  volunteers,  and  national  guard  ?” 

Time  was  when  the  regular,  from  the  safe  distance  of 
the  frontier,  could  afford  to  laugh  at  these  affairs  and 
wonder  what  people  could  see  in  them.  They  were  no 
more  like  the  real  thing  than  brevet  to  actual  rank ;  but 
little  by  little  as  the  centre  of  population  shifted  westward 
with  the  Star  of  Empire,  and  Congressmen  sprang  from 
the  newly-organized  districts  and  began  to  have  influence 
— big  or  little — in  shaping  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  and 
what  had  been  frontier  posts  were  overlapped  by  the 
people,  and  the  regular  and  the  State  troops  began  to  eye 
each  other  askance,  there  sprang  into  life  a  new  money¬ 
making  scheme  by  which  shrewd  financiers  saw  means 
of  depleting  the  pockets  of  a  whole  community  and 
replenishing  their  own  by  advertising,  in  flaming  posters 
all  over  the  Northwest,  a  vast  aggregation  of  military 
attractions ;  reviews,  parades,  camps  of  hundreds  of  the 

finest  organizations  in  the  country;  competitive  drills  of 
l  14* 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


162 

regiments,  battalions,  and  companies ;  charges  of  cav¬ 
alry;  thunderous  salvos  of  artillery,  etc.  Fine  militia 
companies  were  tempted  to  come  by  promise  of  big 
money  prizes,  and  certain  battalions,  batteries,  or  troops, 
of  regulars  were  ordered  to  go  by  a  department  that, 
propei ly  enough,  did  not  wish  to  “lose  touch  with  the 
people.” 

Goodness  knows  the  regulars,  officers  and  men,  were 
glad  enough  to  go,  and  do  almost  anything  to  make 
themselves  known  to  fellow-beings  and  fellow-citizens, 
whose  sole  conception  of  the  officers  and  men  of  the 
United  States  army  was  derived  from  a  casual  reading 
of  the  sneers  of  the  Chicago  papers  and  the  squibs  of 
other  journals  no  better  informed  than  those  of  the  once- 
called  “  Garden  City,”  but  who  thought  it  wit  or  wisdom 
to  follow  their  lead.  And  wherever  the  regulars  went, 
and  whatever  was  to  be  done,  they  entered  con  amove 
into  the  spirit  of  the  thing,  and  won  among  the  populace 
hosts  of  friends,  and  from  the  projectors  of  the  enterprise 
a  world  of  gratitude.  “  We’d  have  been  swamped  utterly 
if  it  hadn’t  been  for  you  fellows,”  as  Mr.  X.  heard  the 

business  manager  say  to  a  group  of  old  frontier  comrades 

% 

time  and  again,  and,  indeed,  the  statement  was  not  exag¬ 
gerative. 

But  what  comical  times  we  had !  What  wonderful 
skirmishes  and  battles  were  those  we  fought  among  th.i 
crested  bluffs  of  Dubuque,  along  the  “  Cold  Spring” 
grounds,  back  of  the  Cream  City,  and,  last  of  all,  over 
the  barren  flats  behind  that  far-spreading,  all-absorbing, 
and  fiercely-democratic  metropolis  of  Chicago !  In 
some  particulars  the  experiences  were  identical  in  each 
place.  In  some  places  we  encountered  new  and  original 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


163 


views  on  the  part  of  the  public  as  to  the  fine  points  of 
modern  war-waging.  In  one  respect  they  were  all 
alike :  the  Grand  Army  man  we  had  always  with  us,  and 
in  his  glory,  too.  In  the  “  grand-stand,”  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  crowd,  and  invariably  the  most  conspicuous  per¬ 
sonage  in  his  vicinity,  the  battle-scarred  veteran  or  the 
hospital  “  beat,”  as  the  case  might  be,  was  sure  to  have 
a  prominent  position,  and  to  be  taking  frequent  occasion 
to  inform  the  crowd  that  “  me  and  a  half-dozen  of  the 
old  boys,  with  our  Springfields,  could  clean  out  a  whole 
regiment  of  these  fellows,  with  their  new-fangled  guns.” 

There  was  another  point  in  which  marked  resemblance 
was  at  once  apparent.  With  enterprise  genuinely  Ameri¬ 
can,  no  sooner  was  it  announced  that  the  sham  battle 
would  take  place  on  certain  grounds  than  the  populace 
swarmed  forth  and  took  possession  thereof,  and  before 
the  sham  fight  could  come  off,  as  per  advertisement,  a 
genuine  tussle  was  sometimes  necessary  before  the  lurid 
spectacle  could  begin. 

Perhaps  the  liveliest  example  of  this  sort  of  thing 
occurred  at  the  first  encampment  of  the  Wisconsin 
troops  in  rear  of  the  city  of  Milwaukee.  There  were 
perhaps  fifteen  hundred  infantry  under  canvas,  a  fine 
troop  of  cavalry,  some  guns  and  gunners  from  the  State 
capital,  and  these  were  all  provisionally  brigaded  to¬ 
gether  for  the  time  being,  and  four  battalions  had  been 
organized  from  the  foot-commands.  There  had  been 
daily  parades,  guard-mountings,  occasional  reviews,  and 
a  big  demonstration  through  the  streets  of  the  city, 
headed  by  the  governor  and  his  staff  on  horseback.  The 
great  field  was  known  as  the  Cold  Spring  Course,  and 
its  entire  area  was  surrounded  by  a  high  board  fence/ 


164  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

not  so  high  but  that  ambitious  boys  could  scale  it;  not 
so  impenetrable  but  that  it  could  be  burrowed  under  or 
squeezed  through  in  a  thousand  places.  And  after  the 
regular  military  work  was  done,  a  “  hippodrome’'  enter¬ 
prise  had  been  resolved  upon.  A  new  armory  was 
needed  for  a  crack  organization  ;  the  State  couldn’t  build 
armories  at  all  or  allow  money  enough  even  to  pay  an 
insurance  policy  on  a  poor  one ;  but  the  soldier-boys 
had  got  their  heads  together  and  determined  on  some 
plans  to  raise  money,  and  this  was  one  of  them.  A 
business  manager  had  been  found ;  blank  cartridges  by 
the  million  had  been  provided  ;  huge  posters  had  been 
distributed  all  over  Wisconsin,  and  fringed  a  surrounding 
belt  in  the  other  States ;  prizes  were  offered  for  the  best 
drilled  companies  from  anywhere  ;  “  regulars”  were  ob¬ 
tained  as  judges  and  staff-officers ;  and,  on  the  last  great 
day  of  the  feast,  a  sham  fight  of  colossal  proportions 
was  to  take  place,  all  of  which  could  be  viewed  for  a 
very  moderate  price  of  admission.  The  fame  of  the 
thing,  as  has  been  intimated  in  a  previous  article,  was 
trumpeted  to  the  far  East,  and  Harper's  Weekly's  liveliest 
wielder  of  chalk  and  crayon  was  dispatched  to  the  scene 
to  gather  illustrations.  The  weather  had  been  gorgeous 
and  the  crowds  generous,  so  “  the  management”  looked 
forward  with  comfort  to  the  proceeds  of  “  battle-day,” 
and  probably  were  not  much  disappointed  when  they 
gazed  on  the  tumultuous  sea  of  people  swarming  along 
the  race-track  and  gradually  possessing  themselves  of 
the  entire  enclosed  space  except  the  tented  rectangle  at 
the  far  western  end,  where  doubled  sentries  kept  the 
camps  tolerably  secure  against  being  bodily  drifted  off. 

“  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  crowd?”  said  the  manager’s 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


165 


junior  partner,  an  hour  before  the  time  announced  for 
the  battle  to  begin.  “We  must  have  taken  in  ten  thou¬ 
sand  dollars  already.” 

“  We  haven’t  taken  in  ten  hundred,”  said  a  flushel 
and  excited  messenger  from  the  great  gate,  arriving  at 
the  instant.  “  This  crowd  has  come  in  from  a  thou¬ 
sand  holes  in  our  three  miles  of  fence,  and  they  keep 
a-coming.” 

It  was  then  that  the  “  manager,”  rueful  and  wrathful, 
bestrode  his  gray  steed  and  whipped  his  way  through  a 
surging  host  of  people,  and  presently  appeared  in  front 
of  the  canvas  head-quarters  of  the  commanding  general. 

“  My  God,  general !  I’ve  got  to  have  about  a  thou¬ 
sand  sentries  right  off.  The  crowd  is  busting  in  that 
big  fence  on  all  sides,  and  I’ll  have  a  tremendous  bill 
to  pay  and  no  money  to  do  it  with.  How  quick  can  I 
have  ’em  ?” 

“  Well,  Mr.  Ferguson,  you’ve  got  two  regiments  out 
now.  The  sentries  all  around  inside  the  race-track  are 
trying  to  keep  that  space  clear  for  the  sham  fight,  and 
you  have  a  battalion  outside  the  fence  to  keep  people 
off  the  high  ground  to  the  south  of  us.  Where  are  the 
sentries  to  come  from  ?” 

“  If  we  can’t  get  ’em  any  other  way,  I’ll  have  all  those 
on  guard  around  the  track.  I’ve  got  to  stop  this  ‘  hook¬ 
ing  in’  right  off,  anyhow,  or  we’ll  have  all  Milwaukee  on 
this  ground  in  half  an  hour,  and  nothing  to  show  for  it 
but  damages,”  said  the  man  of  affairs,  dolefully. 

And  so  Mr.  X.,  who  was  adjutant-general  of  the  camp, 
was  bidden  to  mount  his  horse  and  order  the  immediate 
changes  required  by  the  head  of  the  combined  civil  and 
military  financial  management,  and,  not  relishing  the  job 


r66  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

in  the  least,  Mr.  X.  proceeded  to  carry  out  his  orders. 
In  half  an  hour  the  fence  was  lined  with  sentries,  who 
speedily  drove  back  every  man  or  boy  struggling  over, 
under,  or  through  that  barrier,  but  to  do  this  required 
nearly  the  entire  force  now  under  arms  and  awaiting  the 
signal  to  form  for  the  coming  battle.  It  also  necessitated 
the  removal  of  all  but  about  one  hundred  sentries  from 
along  the  race-track  fence,  whose  duty  it  was  to  keep 
the  crowd  from  bulging  through  and  occupying  the  field. 
Meantime,  the  grand  stand  and  spectators’  “  bleaching- 
boards”  were  more  leisurely  filling,  for  extra  halves  and 
quarters  were  demanded  for  accommodations  thereon, 
and  the  vast  space  intended  for  carriages  was  slowly 
crowding  with  vehicles  of  every  description.  Mr.  X. 
didn’t  like  the  idea  of  changing  those  sentries  one  bit, 
but  “  orders  are  orders,”  and  he  had  to  carry  them  out. 

And  now,  before  going  further,  a  glance- at  the  plan  of 
action  and  the  ground  itself  may  be  needed.  The  space 
inclosed  by  the  mile  race-track  was  fairly  level.  The 
west  end  was  covered  by  closely-packed  tents  of  the 
camp,  the  east  end  was  diversified  by  a  grove  of  hand¬ 
some  trees,  and  about  one  hundred  yards  back  from 
the  judge’s  tower,  just  opposite  the  grand  stand,  was 
a  dense  growth  of  shrubbery  and  underbrush,  form¬ 
ing  a  copse  which  was  entirely  impenetrable.  Between 
this  copse  and  the  stands  all  was  clear  and  open ;  behind 
and  beyond  the  ground  was  also  unencumbered,  and 
from  the  stands  a  good  view  could  be  obtained.  Every¬ 
thing  had  been  lavishly  advertised,  including  a  rough 
sketch-map  of  the  position,  and  as  outlined  by  the  press 
the  plan  of  battle  promised  some  realistic  features  and 
fine  spectacular  effect. 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


167 


Fresh  from  his  triumphs  at  the  Dubuque  encampment, 
a  gallant  soldier  of  the  regular  infantry  had  come  in  from 
the  frontier  to  plan  the  grand  attack  on  the  camp  of  the 
“  W.  N.  G.,”  at  Cold  Spring,  and  in  person  to  conduct 
the  assault.  The  defense  was  intrusted  to  Mr.  X.  him¬ 
self.  The  last  time  he  and  “the  major”  had  sniffed  the 
fumes  of  battle  together  was  the  damp,  misty  morning  of 
Crook’s  withdrawal  from  the  Indian  villages  which  he 
had  captured  at  Slim  Buttes  the  previous  day,  and  to  the 
major  in  question  and  to  Mr.  X.  had  been  assigned  the 
duty  of  burning  every  stitch  of  Indian  property  that 
couldn’t  be  carried  away.  That  was  blinding,  beastly, 
wretched  work,  for  everything  was  so  drenched  with 
rain  it  was  hard  to  get  fire  to  take  hold.  But  before  they 
got  half  through  their  “  sham  ”  duties  among  their  friends 
and  fellow-citizens,  this  summer  afternoon  at  Cold  Spring, 
both  these  rival  commanders  were  ready  to  wish  they 
were  back  in  the  smoke,  mud,  and  sharp  skirmishing 
around  the  Sioux  villages. 

As  set  forth  in  the  papers,  the  attacking  force  was  to 
appear  through  a  gap  in  the  fence  at  the  east  end,  and, 
hidden  from  view  of  the  camp  by  the  copse  and  grove 
to  run  its  artillery  up  to  the  right  and  left;  to  deploy  its 
infantry  in  support  of  the  guns,  and  then  to  open  sudden 
and  furious  fire.  The  alarm  and  the  long  roll  were  to 
sound  at  once  over  on  the  tented  field ;  the  guns  of  the 
defenders  were  to  reply  with  all  speed  and  uproar.  Paper 
shells  were  to  be  kept  bursting  on  high  and  shrieking 
realistically  through  the  air,  and  as  Mr.  X.  was  to  have 
four  guns  to  the  major’s  one,  the  latter  was  to  allow  him¬ 
self  to  be  temporarily  silenced.  Then  Mr.  X.  was  to  ad¬ 
vance  the  infantry  from  his  left  wing  across  the  open 


i68 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


field  between  camp  and  the  copse  in  spirited  attempt  to 
capture  the  westward  guns  of  his  friend  the  major,  but 
was  to  be  driven  back  in  confusion  by  the  withering  fire 
from  the  rifles  of  the  supporting  force.  A  rally,  and  re¬ 
newal  of  the  attempt  with  increased  numbers  was  to  re¬ 
sult  in  similar  disaster,  and  Mr.  X.’s  left  wing,  finding 
the  enemy  in  front  too  strong,  was  to  retire  to  the  general 
line  and  resume  sharp  artillery  practice;  and  the  right 
wing,  which  up  to  this  time  was  only  menacing  the 
major’s  gallant  left  in  sufficient  force  to  prevent  his  send¬ 
ing  re-enforcements  through  the  grove  to  his  assailed 
flank,  was  now  destined  to  assume  the  offensive  in  good 
earnest. 

First  a  heavy  skirmish  line  was  to  push  out;  then  a 
strong  line  of  battle  was  to  sweep  down  upon  the  major’s 
guns ;  two  big  battalions  were  to  concentrate  their  fire  on 
one  little  one,  drawn  up  in  full  view  of  the  grand  stand 
and  stretching  from  the  judge’s  tower  across  in  front  of 
the  copse ;  this  was  gradually  to  crumble  and  give  way 
before  the  storm,  and  then  Mr.  X.’s  whole  line  was  to 
advance  cheering  and  at  the  run ;  the  cavalry  were  to 
come  sweeping  down  with  the  general  advance,  close  to 
the  race-track,  and  then,  as  the  major’s  left  began  sifting 
away,  with  bugle-blast  and  stirring  war-cry  and  flashing 
sabre  and  rushing  steed,  the  Light-Horse  was  to  charge 
down  past  the  open-mouthed  populace,  dash  through  the 
guns  like  Custer’s  troopers  at  Winchester,  and  go  hack¬ 
ing  and  hewing  among  the  dispirited  infantry  of  the  foe, 
who  were  to  throw  down  their  arms  and  beg  for  mercy 
in  full  view  of  the  ladies  in  the  big  pavilion,  and  the 
horsemen  were  thus  to  be  the  heroes  of  the  day.  Then, 
with  his  left  crushed  and  shattered,  the  major  himself 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


169 


would  have  no  alternative  but  to  come  forth  and  grace¬ 
fully  tender  his  sword  to  the  triumphant  foe.  It  was 
most  magnanimous  in  the  planner  of  the  plot  thus  to 
designate  himself  to  play  the  part  of  the  vanquished. 
Perhaps,  however,  he  knew  what  the  result  was  going  to 
be.  It  read,  like  the  French  army  returns  in  1870,  all 
very  well  on  paper.  Now,  let  us  see  how  it  turned  out. 

At  3.30  p.m.,  as  advertised,  the  attacking  force  was  to 
appear  through  an  eastern  gate,  and  carefully  conceal  its 
march  upon  the  distant  camp.  At  3.45  the  head  of  the 
column  did  reach  the  prearranged  gap  in  the  fence,  but 
that  was  as  far  as  it  got,  for  the  time  being  at  least. 
There  was  no  corresponding  gap  in  the  dense  array  of 
wagons,  carts,  carriages,  omnibuses,  etc.,  wedged  all  over 
the  circular  sweep  of  track  in  front.  But  there  was  no 
hurry  any  more  than  there  was  need  of  bothering  about 
concealing  their  movements  from  the  encamped  foe  half 
a  mile  to  the  west.  Neither  could  see  the  other  with 
glasses  of  “  hextra  million  power.”  The  entire  inter¬ 
vening  space — the  field  of  battle  itself — was  now  occupied 
by  the  populace,  and  some  thirty  thousand  friends  and 
fellow-citizens  jubilantly  roamed  or  squatted  over  the 
plain  where  by  this  time  the  skirmish-lines  should  be  at 
work,  and  over  whose  green  sward  the  12-pounders 
should  now  be  belching  forth  their  thunder. 

The  manager  sat  in  the  judge’s  tower  a  picture  of  per¬ 
turbation.  Orderlies,  messengers,  police,  “  Pinkertons,” 
and  stray  guardsmen  had  been  dispatched  through  the 
throng.  On  the  one  hand  were  the  crowded  seats  of 
paying  spectators  who  were  clamoring  for  the  show  to 
begin  ;  on  the  other — on  the  great  field — swarmed  the 
gleeful  many, — “  hoi  polloi — not  one  in  ten  of  whom  had 
H  15 


170  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

paid  a  dime  to  get  in,  and  yet  they  were  masters  of  the 
situation. 

“  If  you  don’t  clear  this  field  and  retire  to  the  race¬ 
track  the  battle  can’t  come  off!”  roared  Mr.  Ferguson. 

“  Den  give  us  our  money  back !”  yelled  a  gang  of 
gamins  in  the  crowd, — and  the  crowd  cheered  delight¬ 
edly.  The  manager  fumed  and  raved.  Finally  he 
mounted  and  came  cantering  into  camp,  where  Mr.  X. 
and  the  gallant  defenders  were  placidly  waiting  to  be 
attacked. 

“  What  are  we  to  do,  by  thunder  ?”  says  Mr.  Ferguson. 
“  That  crowd  covers  every  inch  of  space  you  were  going 
to  fight  over.  Can’t  you  get  ’em  off?” 

“  Haven’t  men  enough  in  camp  to  begin  to  try.  Fast 
as  we  shove  ’em  to  one  side  they’ll  swarm  in  on  the 
other.  Here — I’ll  show,  you,”  says  a  field-officer  of 
infantry  whose  battalion  happens  to  be  in  readiness. 
Deploying  four  companies  as  skirmishers,  he  makes  a  slow 
wheel  southward.  The  crowd  laughs,  rolls  slowly  back 
until  it  becomes  dense ;  then  refuses  to  budge.  Mean¬ 
time,  the  space  just  vacated  is  promptly  occupied  by 
other  enterprising  citizens,  and  after  ten  minutes’  lively 
skirmish-drill  the  field  is  practically  full  as  ever.  It 
dosen’t  mend  matters  to  tell  Mr.  Ferguson  that  if  he 
hadn’t  taken  the  sentries  away  in  the  first  place  the 
crowd  wouldn’t  be  here  now.  He  knows  that. 

But  an  unexpected  ally  appears.  Black  clouds  have 
been  gathering.  There  is  vivid  flash  and  thunder  clap; 
then  a  sudden  deluge.  The  heavens  descended  in  a  torrent 
that  in  five  minutes  swept  that  great  inclosure  clear  of 
every  unfeathered  biped  and  leveled  many  a  tent  with  the 
earth.  The  mob  had  fled  to  the  State-fair  buildings, — the 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


171 

stables,  horse-sheds,  stands,  benches, — and,  even  then, 
thousands  were  soaked  to  the  skin.  Thanks  to  Jupiter 
,  Pluvius,  the  field  was  ours.  In  ten  minutes  it  ceased  as 
suddenly  as  it  began.  Then  the  sentries  lined  the  rail 
fence  at  the  track,  and  from  camp  to  copse  we  held  the 
ground.  So,  too,  had  there  been  a  stampede  of  all  open 
vehicles  down  at  the  east  end.  Thousands  of  visitors 
of  both  sexes  were  drenched,  but  there  was  no  use  in 
retreating  farther.  The  sun  came  out  bright  and  warm. 
The  major  and  his  daring  column  dragged  their  guns 
through  the  dripping  fields.  The  thunder  of  the  heavens 
was  suddenly  answered  by  the  hoarse  bellow  of  the  light 
twelves.  The  bugles  in  camp  rang  out  “  to  arms,”  and 
the  blue  puffs  of  bursting  shells  scattered  papier-mache  in 
powdery  fragments  upon  the  upward-gazing  faces.  No 
sooner  was  the  major’s  line  established  than  he  was 
backed  up  by  the  populace.  Whatsoever  might  be  local 
prejudice  or  sympathy,  the  major  was  now  bound  to  have 
the  best  of  it.  No  concentration  of  blank-cartridge  fire 
could  ever  drive  him  back.  All  Milwaukee  was  wedged 
in  behind  him  ;  hack  and  hansom,  cab  and  carriage,  men, 
women,  and  children;  a  solid  mass  of  eager  humanity, 
moist,  dripping,  but  determined,  now  re-enforced  his  line. 
It  was  now  all  he  could  do  to  hold  his  own  against  his 
backers.  Under  that  surging  impulse  from  the  rear  a 
headlong  charge  on  camp — a  total  revolution  of  the  pro¬ 
gramme — seemed  far  more  probable. 

Bang  and  roar  went  the  big  guns ;  pop  and  rattle  the 
little  ones.  The  skirmishers  danced  out  to  the  front; 
and  then,  in  spite  of  probable  annihilation,  refused  to 
go  dancing  back  until  their  officers  dragged  them. 
Stretcher-men,  duly  detailed,  scurried  forward  to  pick  up 


172 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


warriors  presumably  dead,  who  became  suddenly  resur¬ 
rected  and  declined  to  be  taken  to  the  rear.  All  this, 
however,  occurred  on  the  side  farthest  from  the  crowded 
stand  and  pavilion,  and  people  were  only  moderately  ex¬ 
cited,  for  on  the  south  side  of  the  field,  where  now  were 
packed  the  throngs,  only  a  long-range  artillery  duel  and 
some  scattered  skirmish  fire  was  going  on. 

Now  came  the  second  stage,  and  down  on  the  major’s 
fated  left  bore  the  heavy  battalions  of  the  right  wing ; 
and  no  sooner  did  the  line  of  battle  move  to  the  front 
than,  as  at  the  east  end,  the  crowd  came  tumbling  over 
the  scattered  sentries  and  streaming  out  upon  the  field. 
Mr.  X.,  to  his  disgust,  was  re-enforced  by  a  cheering  and 
enthusiastic  mob  of  fellow-citizens,  who  came  chasing 
after  his  line,  bound — since  there  was  no  danger  in  it — 
to  be  in  at  the  death.  Detaching  his  cavalry  with  orders 
to  scour  up  and  down,  over  and  across  the  fields  in  his 
rear,  so  that  if  the  foe  were  compelled,  by  force  of  circum¬ 
stances,  to  stand  their  ground,  instead  of  yielding  it,  as 
prearranged,  he  at  least  might  have  a  line  of  retreat  open, 
Mr.  X.  galloped  on  after  his  right  wing,  now  hotly  en¬ 
gaged,  and  burning  powder  at  the  rate  of  a  barrel  a 
second.  Vast  clouds  of  the  “villainous  saltpetre”  rolled 
on  high  and  obscured  the  opposite  line.  Swells,  in  light 
wagons,  and  lovely  dames,  in  carriages,  finding  it  impos¬ 
sible  to  see  through  the  battle-smoke,  came  whipping 
down  the  course  behind  the  foot-throng  and  reached  a 
gap  where  stalwart  policemen  and  guards,  with  fixed 
bayonets,  had,  up  to  this  time,  prevented  any  one  from 
squeezing  “  between  the  lines.”  Through  here  the  cap¬ 
tured  guns  were  to  be  dragged, — when  we  got  them, — 
but  just  at  this  moment  all  four  of  them  together  let  go  a 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


173 


thunderous  “  fire  by  battery.”  A  dozen  teams  took  fright, 
became  uncontrollable,  and,  despite  guards  and  police, 
veered  in  through  this  very  gap,  and  the  next  thing  that 
the  triumphant  right  wing  knew,  there  came,  charging 
through  the  battle-smoke, — What  ?  The  elephants  of 
Hannibal  ?  the  war-chariots  of  Darius  ?  No  !  Half  a 
dozen  snorting,  racing  teams,  bounding  carriages,  and 
affrighted  occupants  suddenly  appeared,  as  suddenly 
whirled  about,  and  again  became  swallowed  up  in  smoke  ; 
and  as  nothing  on  earth  could  live  in  front  of  such  a 
blast  of  lead  in  open  field,  and,  as  the  foe  as  well  as  the 
luckless  charioteers  would  have  been  blown  out  of  exist¬ 
ence  by  this  time,  “  Cease  firing”  was  sounded,  shouted, 
yelled,  and  finally  enforced.  And  then,  at  last,  as  the 
smoke  cleared  away,  and  people  were  revealed  chasing 
after  stray  hats, — chimney-pot  and  Gainsborough, — and 
others  hanging  on  to  the  heads  of  affrighted  horses,  and 
others  still  picking  themselves  up  and  limping  out  of  the 
way,  there  stood  the  opposing  line,  its  last  cartridge 
gone,  its  position  no  longer  tenable  from  a  military  point 
of  view,  and  no  longer  “  vacatable”  from  any  other. 
Unable  to  retreat,  the  heroic  left,  with  fixed  bayonets, 
grimly  faced  the  coming  foe,  bent  on  dying  like  the 
Twenty-fourth  at  Isandlhwana. 

Mr.  X.  sent  an  aide-de-camp  around  by  the  race-track 
to  remind  the  commander  of  the  inimical  left  that  he 
was  whipped,  and  really  must  fall  back  so  that  he  could 
be  annihilated  by  our  now  impatient  dragoons,  according 
to  programme.  Meantime,  the  two  opposing  lines  glared 
at  each  other  like  pugilists  between  rounds.  The  aide 
came  dashing  back  across  the  “  zone  of  fire”  with  the 
information  that  the  major  was  deeply  sensible  of  the 

»5* 


174 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


fact  that  he  oughtn’t  to  hold  his  position,  but  he  simply 
could  not  fall  back.  If  relief  weren’t  sent  him  in  two 
minutes  he’d  have  to  fall  forward  in  deference  to  the  pop¬ 
ular  impact, — vis  a  tergoy — in  which  event,  said  he,  Mr. 
X.  and  his  bold  dragoons  had  better  get  out  of  the  way. 

“  The  guard  surrenders,  but  cannot  die,”  says  the  aide. 
“  Shall  I  turn  the  cavalry  loose  on  the  crowd  ?” 

“  No ;  they  might  get  lost,  and  we  want  them  for  dress 
parade.  Go  and  tell  Major  George,  who  commands  that 
staggering  battalion,  that  I’ll  give  him  one  last  volley, 
and  they  must  all  drop  in  their  tracks.” 

“  Then  the  crowd  will  bust  over  them  and  come  at  us,” 
says  the  pessimistic  aide.  “  We  won’t  have  time  even 
to  yell  ‘  Police  !’  ” 

“  Then  we  can  but  die  in  our  tracks.  There’s  no  re¬ 
treat.  The  crowd  behind  is  as  thick  as  it  is  in  front.” 

“  Can’t  we  slip  out  between  ’em  and  let  the  two  crowds 
come  together?”  suggests  the  aide. 

“  Wouldn’t  do.  A  sham  fight  was  advertised.  They’d 
sue  the  management  for  breach  of  contract  if  they  got  a 
real  one.  Give  a  general  feu  de  joiey  and  then  tell  every 
man  to  yell,  *  Both  sides  whipped.’  ” 

A  moment  more  of  crashing  musketry,  blinding 
smoke,  and  deafening  cheers.  When  the  clouds  rolled 
by  a  tumultuous  mass  of  perspiring  soldiery  was  revealed 
tossing  caps  and  helmets  skyward  and  yelling  triumph. 
Thanks  to  the  populace,  the  battle  of  Cold  Spring  was 
declared  drawn. 

Then  we  tried  it  for  the  benefit  of  another  gift  enter¬ 
prise  in  Chicago ;  and  here,  under  the  pretentious  title 
of  “  Grand  International  Military  Camp,”  etc.,  a  big 
aggregation  of  bandsmen  and  militia  assembled  from  all 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


175 


over  the  West,  and  the  War  Department  had  been  in¬ 
duced  to  order  a  light  battery,  a  troop  of  cavalry,  and  a 
battalion  of  infantry  from  the  regular  service  thither  for 
duty.  Sham  battles  were  promised  every  afternoon,  and 
some  of  them  were  ludicrous  in  the  last  degree. 

To  begin  with,  the  crowd,  as  in  Milwaukee,  swarmed 
over  the  “  Pinkertons”  and  police  before  the  troops  ap¬ 
peared,  and  when  we  came  forth  to  do  our  deeds  of 
daring  before  the  ladies  in  the  grand  stands  and  pa¬ 
vilions,  the  managers  rode  vainly  to  and  fro  through  the 
populace  imploring  it  to  fall  back  to  the  seats  provided 
for  its  accommodation  all  around  the  edges  of  the  battle¬ 
field  ;  but  you  might  as  well  reason  with  a  herd  of 
buffalo  as  with  a  Chicago  crowd.  It  is  never  so  happy 
as  when  in  mischief.  Where  one  man  out  of  ten  would 
have  enjoyed  seeing  the  military  display,  nine  out  of  ten 
thought  it  bigger  fun  to  bother  the  “  Pinkertons,”  whom 
the  populace  of  the  Garden  City  hate  as  rats  do  a  terrier. 
Argument,  entreaty,  and  threats  of  “  no  game”  being 
alike  useless,  the  police  being  only  a  handful  in  face  of 
such  numbers,  the  commander  of  the  regulars  was  ap¬ 
pealed  to,  and  presently  out  came  the  blue  skirmish-lines, 
steadily  deploying  at  “  arms  port,”  in  face  of  the  throng, 
and  then  the  masses  slowly  yielded,  retired  to  the 
benches  and  the  fences,  and,  after  much  bother,  having 
cleared  the  field  and  turned  the  crowds  over  to  the 
police  and  the  local  sentries,  the  regulars  were  recalled 
to  take  their  places  for  the  thrilling  combat,  and  in  ten 
minutes  the  crowd  was  out  in  the  field  again.  Cavalry 
charges  were  rendered  impossible.  The  infantry  banged 
away  at  each  other  through  the  intervening  mob,  and 
everybody  laughed  until  he  or  she  was  tired. 


176 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


That  evening  the  management  insisted  that  we  must 
have  brigade  dress  parade,  as  advertised.  The  “  regular” 
commander  said  he  would  not  undertake  to  parade  and 
keep  the  crowd  back  too.  If  the  “  management”  would 
handle  the  crowd,  he  would  handle  the  troops.  The 
management  bit  its  finger-nails  and  scratched  its  head, 
and  again  appealed  to  the  crowd  to  fallback, — “You 
can  see  just  as  well  at  the  seats.”  But  the  crowd  stolidly 
grinned  and  stood.  Then  a  troop  of  regulars  rode  forth 
and  slowly  and  civilly  as  possible  for  the  third  time 
herded  the  throng  back  to  the  fences  and  the  benches ; 
the  grand  stands  and  pavilions  applauded ;  the  Pinkertons 
and  a  line  of  sentries — not  regulars — were  placed  in  pos¬ 
session.  A  distinguished  war  veteran  rode  forth  to 
assume  command  of  the  “  line  of  masses,”  now  forming ; 
six  battalions  of  foot,  the  light  battery  of  the  Fourth 
Artillery,  and  a  swell  cavalry  battalion  made  a  handsome 
show  as  it  faced  Chicago.  For  a  few  minutes  the  crowd 
of  “  unwashed”  was  held  within  bounds  ;  but  no  genuine 
American,  of  Irish  or  other  descent,  conceives  that  he 
can  suitably  see  anything  so  long  as  some  other  Ameri¬ 
can  is  nearer  the  object  than  he,  and  little  by  little  police, 
Pinkertons,  and  sentries  were  impelled  linewards,  and 
when  Mr.  X.,  as  adjutant-general,  galloped  out  to  salute 
the  commanding  officer  with  the  present  of  the  entire 
command,  he  couldn’t  find  his  chief ;  he  was  swallowed 
up  in  the  crowd. 

Next  day  and  the  next  we  took  matters  in  our  own 
hands ;  established  sentries  before  the  crowd  got  there, 
and  managed  to  have  a  clear  field.  Still  there  were 
absurd  features.  One  day  was  to  be  devoted  to  a  realistic 
Indian  massacre,  since  Chicago  couldn’t  be  satisfied 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


1 77 


without  painting  the  camp  red  and  having  something 
genuinely  “  bluggy.”  A  lot  of  New  Mexican  aborigines 
were  there,  fellows  who  were  about  the  color  and  size  of 
the  Apache,  and  matched  him  about  as  a  cat  does  a  cata¬ 
mount.  A  gallant  major  of  Wisconsin  infantry,  who  had 
won  the  hearts  of  the  whole  “  regular”  contingent,  was  to 
figure  as  a  bearer  of  dispatches,  and  was  to  be  summarily 
dispatched  by  Apaches  ambuscaded  in  the  rocks  (bales  of 
hay),  and  scalped  in  sight  of  a  shuddering  grand  stand. 

The  government  policy  of  sending  a  company  to 
“  punish”  a  tribe  was  then  to  be  fully  illustrated,  and 

Captain - ,  of  the  Twenty-third,  was  to  show  how  he 

and  his  company  used  to  take  the  war-path  in  Arizona, 
where  indeed  many  of  their  number  had  bitten  the  dust 
but  a  decade  or  so  before.  These  were  to  be  appro¬ 
priately  slaughtered  by  surrounding  hordes  (there  were 
about  forty-five  of  the  “  Lagunas”),  who  were  then  to 
indulge  in  a  wild  and  ungodly  revel  and  scalp-dance,  to 
be  interrupted  by  a  furious  charge  of  cavalry  (regulars 
in  full-dress  uniform  in  deference  to  the  wishes  of  the 
management),  whereat  they  were  to  scatter  all  over  the 
“  prairie”  and  be  pursued  to  their  lairs,  rallying  quickly 
and  in  turn  overcoming  the  luckless  troopers,  and  finally 
the  forces  of  a  whole  department,  like  those  of  Arizona 
after  the  squad  of  Geronimo,  were  to  be  launched  on  the 
Indians.  There  would  be  a  surround,  a  terrific  combat, 
a  final  surrender,  and,  with  the  plain  covered  with 
corpses,  it  was  hoped  the  crowd  would  go  home  satis¬ 
fied.  Most  of  the  troops  by  this  time  had  gone,  dis¬ 
gusted.  The  regulars,  being  under  orders,  had  to  stay 
and  help  out  the  management. 

Well,  that  fight  was  a  stunner,  albeit  carried  out  with 


173 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


startling  variations  from  the  advertised  programme. 
Nothing  could  have  been  more  realistic  than  the  Badger 
major’s  headlong  tumble  from  his  galloping  horse, 
nothing  more  dramatic  than  the  scalping  act  and  war- 
whoops  of  the  Indians ;  nothing  more  disciplined  than 
the  “  die-in-your-tracks”  business  of  the  designated  vic¬ 
tims  of  the  gallant  Twenty-third ;  nothing  more  blood¬ 
curdling  than  the  wild  war-dance  of  the  warriors  around 
their  prostrate  foes. 

But  there  ended  the  lesson.  Intoxicated  by  the  cheers 
of  the  crowd,  and  fired  by  the  taste  of  imaginary  blood, 
our  savage  allies  concluded  to  fight  out  the  rest  of  the 
thing  on  their  own  lines,  instead  of  those  of  the  pro¬ 
gramme.  When  the  troopers  came  dashing  on  the  scene 
from  behind  the  bluffs  (a  big  wooden  bullet-stop),  the 
wild  warriors  faced  them  like  heroes  instead  of  scattering 
like  sheep.  Bear-with-a-hole-in-his-tail  was  knocked 
endwise  by  Lieutenant  A.’s  rushing  charger,  He-that- 
shuns-fire-water  (a  truly  remarkable  savage)  was  flattened 
out  by  a  whack  from  the  back  of  Lieutenant  S.’s  glit¬ 
tering  sabre,  and  Wolf-stones-in-his-belly  rattled  for  an 
hour  after  the  back-somersault  he  turned  when  colliding 
with  Sergeant  Murphy’s  steed.  But  they  and  their 
comrades  were  on  their  feet  in  an  instant,  banging  away 
with  blank  cartridges  at  the  bewildered  troopers,  dancing 
and  yelling  like  all  possessed.  The  cavalry,  having 
no  orders  to  slaughter,  fled  in  some  confusion,  as  the 
only  means  of  saving  their  horses’  hides  from  scorch¬ 
ing.  Then  hundreds  of  infantry,  re-enforced  by  marines 
and  “  blue-jackets”  from  the  United  States  steamer 
“  Michigan,”  marched  forth  upon  the  field, — the  gallant 
ensign  in  command  of  the  latter  bestriding  a  calico  pony 
captured  from  the  foe, — and  this  overwhelming  force 


SHAM  BATTLES. 


179 


bore  down  upon  the  Apaches  and  poured  sheets  of  fire 
upon  them,  and  still  they  danced  and  sang,  yelped  and 
clattered,  and  still  refused  to  die.  The  crowd  roared 
with  laughter  and  delight ;  the  “  management”  swore  a 
blue  streak ;  the  sailors  and  marines  fired  away  their  last 
cartridge  and  begged  to  be  allowed  to  board  the  enemy. 
The  Wisconsin  major,  tired  of  being  dead  and  scalped 
every  three  minutes,  dragged  himself  behind  a  hay-bale 
to  die  for  the  sixth  or  eighth  time,  and  at  last  the  troops 
“slowly  and  sullenly”  withdrew,  leaving  the  Apaches 
masters  of  the  situation.  Whereupon,  having  still  some 
cartridges,  and  unlimited  fight  among  them,  these  noble 
red  men  turned  to  and  banged  away  at  each  other  until 
the  manager  begged  them  to  clear  the  field  for  parade, 
whereupon  again  the  crowd  set  up  a  yell  of  “  Shoot  the 
manager !”  and  the  battle  of  Washington  Park  came  to 
an  end  by  that  official’s  unconditional  surrender. 

Yet,  it  was  a  newspaper  man  who  came  tearing  up  to 
the  office  to  criticise  this  brilliant  spectacular  effect. 
Rodney’s  battery  had  been  quietly  “  hitching  in”  for 
parade  as  the  affair  was  being  fought  out,  and  slowly 
marched  in  on  the  track  beyond  the  field  in  time  to 
witness  the  fag  end  of  the  fight.  It  had  no  more  to  do 
with  the  “  shindig”  than  a  light  battery — as  such — ever 
has  to  do  with  Indian  warfare,*  but  the  representative 
of  the  Chicago  press  thought  otherwise. 

“  It  was  a  swindle,”  said  he ;  “  that  battery  was  within 
easy  range  and  it  never  fired  a  gun.” 

We  haven’t  had  any  sham  fights  since,  and  if  Mr.  X. 
is  consulted,  we  won’t  have  any  more. 

*  This  was  written  before  the  Hotchkiss  gun  had  become  a  prominent 
feature  in  frontier  battle. 


i8o 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORK¬ 
SHOP. 

For  reasons  set  forth  several  years  ago  in  the  first  of 
his  numerous  papers  on  “  The  Trials  of  Staff-Officers,” 
Mr.  X.  was  compelled  to  do  a  good  deal  of  regimental 
work  at  night  and  beneath  his  own  roof.  In  the  first  set 
of  quarters  occupied  by  him,  at  Russell,  there  was  a 
“  linter”  on  the  east  side  of  the  cottage,  separated  from 
the  parlor  by  the  hall-way  and  comparatively  isolated 
from  the  “  social”  side  of  the  premises.  Thanks  to  a 
six  months’  campaign  in  the  field,  when  no  returns 
were  made,  and  during  which  time  a  new  colonel  and 
a  new  adjutant  had  been  “sprung”  on  the  regiment, 
everything  in  the  office  was  in  arrears.  The  colonel 
found  the  command  wofully  uninstructed  in  drill  and 
garrison  duties,  though  there  was  no  discount  on  its 
work  in  the  field,  and  he  and  his  new  staff-officer  were 
kept  mighty  busy,  especially  the  latter,  in  drills  and  cere¬ 
monies  of  every  kind.  We  were  very  short  of  clerks, 
could  get  no  more  without  depriving  company  com¬ 
manders  of  theirs,  and  so  Mr.  X.  tried  by  hard  night- 
work  to  make  up  the  deficiency.  As  he  was  required  to 
be  out  at  reveille  and  at  work  all  day,  it  can  readily  be 
seen  that  only  a  minimum  allowance  of  sleep  was  accorded 
him,  and  frequently  three  hours  was  the  utmost  he  could 
hope  for.  Mr.  X.  knows  now  that  no  one  man  could 
accomplish  what  he  attempted  that  year  and  that  he  was 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORKSHOP.  l8l 

an  ass  to  try ;  but  try  he  did,  and  one  of  the  prerequi¬ 
sites  was  a  “  den”  where  he  could  work  undisturbed. 

We  had  a  charming  girl  visiting  us  that  winter.  All 
the  bachelors  at  the  post  were  paying  her  devoted  atten¬ 
tion.  There  was  not  an  hour  from  guard-mounting  to 
midnight  that  some  of  them  were  not  infesting  the 
premises,  and  Mrs.  X.  not  infrequently  had  to  order  the 
laughing  crowd  out  of  the  house  when  midnight  came, 
declaring  that  her  friend  and  guest  must  be  allowed  a 
few  hours’  rest  between  visits. 

There  was  a  piano  in  the  parlor  and  a  guitar.  There 
was  fun  in  full  blast  every  evening,  but  the  adjutant 
would  come  in  from  tattoo  roll-call  and  then  shut  him¬ 
self  up  in  his  shop  and  scratch  away  at  the  various  books 
or  papers,  striving  to  be  oblivious  to  the  merry  laughter 
across  the  hall.  By  and  by  one  big  fellow,  whose  detail 
as  post  commissary  enabled  him  to  “  get  the  bulge,”  as 
they  expressed  it,  on  the  others,  came  to  having  the  field 
to  himself  during  the  hours  when  the  regiment  was 
absorbed  in  morning  drills,  and  one  day  the  wife  of  his 
bosom  demanded  of  Mr.  X.,  “  Well,  are  you  never  going 
to  express  an  opinion  about  the  engagement  ?” 

“  What  engagement  ?”  asked  Mr.  X.,  blankly,  for  every 
moment  of  his  time  had  been  given  to  his  work,  and  he 
had  seen  nothing  going  on  under  his  very  nose. 

“  Why,  our  engagement,”  was  madame’s  reply,  the  tone 
whereof  fully  indicated  her  proper  vexation  at  the  imbe¬ 
cility  of  her  lord. 

“  I  thought  that  was  rather  an  old  story,”  says  Mr.  X., 
haplessly. 

“  Oh  !  How  can  you  be  so — stupid  ?  Don’t  you  see  ? 

Haven’t  you  heard  ?  Is  it  possible  you  haven’t  suspected 

16 


182 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


- ’s  engagement  ?  She  accepted  him  four  days  ago, 

and  they  both  think  it  so  queer  you  haven’t  congratu¬ 
lated  them.” 

“  Great  Scott !  Let  me  go  and  do  it  now and  Mr.  X. 
makes  a  rush  across  the  hall  and  into  the  parlor  and  over 
to  the  sofa,  where  sits  enthroned  a  bewitching  brunette 
with  sparkling  eyes  and  flushing  cheeks  and  flashing 
white  teeth,  who  smiles  up  at  him  as  he  says, — 

“  How  blind  I’ve  been  !  My  dear  girl,  you  don’t  know 
how  glad  I  am  to  hear  it.  With  all  my  heart  I  wish  you 
joy,  and — Billy,  old  man,”  and  here  Mr.  X.  turns  on  a 
brother  cavalryman  and  wrings  his  hand  hard,  “  you’re  a 
lucky  fellow  if  there  ever  was  one.  Just  don't  I  con¬ 
gratulate  you !” 

But  Billy’s  face  is  one  of  gloom,  and  Mrs.  X.’s  visage 
portends  a  storm.  “  Why,  aren’t  you  the  happy  man  ?” 
blunders  Mr.  X.,  in  continuation. 

“  I  regret  to  say  I’m  not,”  says  Lieutenant  Billy,  in 
tones  sepulchral,  and  then  Mr.  X.  is  remanded  to  prison 
and  properly  lectured.  It  seems  Billy  wanted  to  be,  but 
wasn’t.  She  was  promising  to  be  a  sister  to  him,  and 
expressing  the  conventional  hope  that,  as  Mrs.  Somebody 
Else,  she  might  still  number  him  as  one  of  her  dearest 
friends,  when  X.  appeared,  like  an  old  mole  just  bursting 
forth  from  the  moist  and  loamy  earth,  dazzled  and  blinded 
by  the  sudden  sunshine. 

But  the  real  happy  man  was  not  allowed  much  hap¬ 
piness,  after  all,  in  that  garrison.  His  defrauded  friends 
and  comrades  made  common  cause  against  him.  There 
was  a  bachelor  ranch  next  door, — a  bachelor  mess, — 
whereat  “  the  boys”  all  congregated  right  after  retreat, 
and  from  which  he  invariably  made  his  escape  just  as 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORKSHOP.  1 83 

soon  as  he  could  satisfy  the  demands  of  hunger,  and 
then  his  well-known  step  would  be  heard  on  our  piazza 
without,  and  our  bonnie  guest  would  be  borne  from  our 
own  dinner-table  to  grant  her  accepted  just  a  moment 
or  two  of  precious  tete-a-tete  before  his  troubles  would 
begin.  Before  the  rest  of  us  could  finish  our  coffee,  bang 
would  go  the  gong-bell  at  the  door,  and  our  darky 
maid  would  usher  in  the  grinning  quartermaster,  a  most 
eligible  bachelor,  and  “  Good-evening,  Mrs.  X. ;  good¬ 
evening,  Miss  Blank,”  would  be  his  laughing  salutation 
as  he  entered.  “  Thought  you  might  be  lonely  this 
evening,  so  I  dropped  in  early.  Hello,  old  man!  You 
here,  too  ?  Why,  if  I’d  known  that ,  now,  I  could  have 

gone  on  to  Colonel  K - ’s.  Mr.  X.  gone  over  to  play 

whist  yet,  Mrs.  X.  ?” 

"  No,  he’s  in  the  den,  but  he  goes  in  five  minutes.  Did 
you  want  to  see  him  ?”  for  madame  has  a  soft  spot  in  her 
heart  for  the  luckless  lover,  and  wants  to  secure  him  a 
moment  or  two  of  bliss  in  answer  to  his  imploring  gaze. 

“  Oh,  no — no,  just  wanted  to  know,  so  as  to  time  my 
visit  up  there  after  the  card-party  gets  out  of  the  sitting- 
room.  I  can  stay  a  whole  half-hour  yet.” 

And  he  does ;  and  when,  at  last,  he  takes  his  leave  he 
slips  into  his  own  abode  next  door.  “  Your  turn  now, 
Bobby,”  he  says  to  the  nearest  youngster,  goes  on  about 
his  other  calls,  and  Bobby  trots  in  to  X.’s  forthwith,  and 
he  spends  his  half  or  three-quarters  of  an  hour  chatting 
blithely  with  Miss  Blank,  and  totally  ignoring  the  black 
looks  and  sullen  mien  of  his  big  comrade. 

Then  he  goes,  and  the  third  relief,  in  the  person  of 
another  sub.,  comes  in  ;  and  so  they  keep  it  up  until  X. 
comes  home  from  the  general’s  whist-table  at  eleven  and 


184 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


betakes  himself  to  the  den  for  work,  and  there  he  finds 
his  cherished  friend,  the  accepted  suitor,  striding  up  and 
down  the  narrow  confines  of  that  apartment,  biting  his 
nails  in  wrath,  and  blaspheming  at  the  rate  of  a  dollar  a 
second, — if  the  regulations  on  that  subject  were  ever 
enforced.  His  half  a  dozen  merciless  chums  have  suc¬ 
ceeded  in  making  the  evening  a  hell  to  him,  as  he  doesn’t 
hesitate  to  say,  and  even  at  this  late  hour  in  come  two 
more  of  the  gang. 

“  Saw  your  lights  burning  in  the  parlor,  Mrs.  X.,  and 
thought  we’d  just  drop  in  to  say  good-night,”  they  ex¬ 
plain.  “  Why,  where’s  S - ?”  And  S — — ,  in  the  den 

with  Mr.  X.,  grits  his  teeth  and  swears  anew.  It  was  all 
great  fun  for  them,  keeping  this  up  night  after  night,  but 
as  the  damsel  had  soon  to  go  eastward,  whither  her 
adorer  could  not  then  follow,  it  was  no  lark  for  him. 
Neither  did  it  help  the  adjutant  in  his  labors. 

But  even  that  invaded  sanctuary  was  better  than  the 
next.  We  were  “  ranked  out”  of  those  quarters  presently 
and  forced  into  a  set  without  a  “  linter,”  and  here  Mr.  X.’s 
den  was  fixed  at  the  rear  end  of  the  hall, — a  space  about 
eight  feet  by  seven, — and  here  was  the  table  on  which 
were  his  books,  papers,  pens,  rulers,  etc.,  and  here  he 
strove  to  do  his  night-work,  only  to  discover  that  a  desk 
which  is  used  as  the  baby’s  playground  by  day  is  but  a 
mess  of  confusion  at  other  times.  Somehow  or  other 
there  was  no  such  thing  as  getting  the  coveted  workshops 
after  that.  It  was  worse  still  when  we  went  on  university 
duty  and  boarded  in  two  rooms.  It  did  not  improve 
when  we  took  up  our  abode  on  the  shores  of  a  lovely 
inland  lake,  and,  having  retired  from  active  service,  Mr. 
X.  found  that  his  pen  was  all  he  had  with  which  to  eke 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORKSHOP.  1 85 

out  a  scanty  income  and  earn  a  home  for  the  wife  and 
olive-branches.  There  were  several  of  the  latter  now, 
and  dollars  flew  from  his  hands  faster  than  he  could 
amass  them.  For  a  time  there  was  a  nook  in  the  garret, 
a  dark  corner  far  aloft  in  the  big  house  of  an  indulgent 
relation,  where  X.  had  a  refuge  and  where  he  could  work 
uninterruptedly,  so  long  as  he  could  stand  the  fumes  of 
the  kerosene  lamp, — there  was  no  other  light  but  a  gas- 
jet  in  the  shop, — and  between  the  gloom  and  the  close 
atmosphere  it  wasn’t  the  liveliest  place  for  composition, 
but  it  was  generally  far  above  the  danger  of  interruption, 
and  that  was  the  main  thing  for  a  fellow  whose  ideas  did 
not  flow  spontaneously  at  all,  but  had  to  be  dragged  out 
by  the  roots,  as  it  were.  It  was  up  in  this  dark  and 
gloomy,  but  most  acceptable,  den  that  X.  wrote  and 
studied,  grinding  out  a  big  book  of  some  eight  hundred 
pages  for  an  Eastern  publisher  on  some  “  Famous 
Battles”  of  history,  and  finding  some  happiness  in  the 
ten  weeks’  wrestle  which  resulted  in  the  production  of 
“  Marion’s  Faith,” — the  first  sequel  to  “  The  Colonel’s 
Daughter.”  Then  we  were  able  to  move  into  rather 
pleasanter  quarters  as  a  household,  though  still  crowded 
in  the  winters,  while  the  summers  were  spent  up  under 
the  beautiful  bluffs  of  Lake  Pepin,  and  at  last, — at  last 
came  the  time  when  the  longed-for  roost  of  our  own 
seemed  a  possibility. 

“  What  makes  it  loveliest  of  all,”  said  placens  uxor ,  as 
she  glanced  about  her  cozy  little  parlor  and  library 
(“  Between  the  Lines”  had  furnished  our  pretty  nook 
“  from  turret  to  foundation-stone”),  “  is  that  now  at  last 
you  have  your  own  den  shut  off  from  the  rest  of  the 
world,  and  there  you  can  work  utterly  uninterrupted.” 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


1 86 

It  was  alluring.  It  did  look  plausible.  Aside  from 
the  deep,  deep  thanksgiving  that  filled  his  heart  for  such 
a  bright,  cheery,  homelike  nest  for  the  wife  and  little 
ones,  there  was  a  heart-felt  sense  of  gratitude  that  here 
he  might  be  able  to  delve  at  the  trade  which  force  of 
circumstances  had  assigned  him,  and  be  free  from  the 
score  of  interruptions  that  beset  him  elsewhere.  The 
selected  “den”  overlooked  the  children’s  playground  at 
the  back  of  the  house.  It  also  overlooked  many  of  the 
neighbors’  back  yards,  the  tennis  court  of  our  small  club, 
the  lake-side  drive  of  the  metropolis,  and  beyond,  the 
sparkling,  dancing  waves  of  old  Michigan.  “  There’s 
inspiration  for  you !”  was  the  daily  declaration  of  the 
lady  friends  whom  Mrs.  X.  delightedly  brought  up  to 
show  over  the  premises,  and  in  course  of  time  the  test 
was  to  be  made. 

We  got  into  our  prized  possession  simultaneously  with 
a  lively  tomkitten,  whom  the  children  promptly  adopted 
and  the  servants  welcomed  as  sure  to  bring  luck.  We 
spent  a  fortnight  getting  settled,  and  by  the  end  of  that 
time  Mr.  X.’s  den  was  indeed  a  joy  to  him.  The  walls 
were  hung  with  maps  of  old  campaigns,  photographs  of 
dozens  of  fellows  of  the  regiments  we  had  known  and 
served  with,  trophies  from  the  far  frontier,  spurs,  sabres, 
field-glasses,  belts,  the  old  aignillette  and  shoulder-knots 
of  the  adjutancy.  A  big  flat  desk,  with  abundant  drawers 
and  pigeon-holes,  was  placed  where  the  east  light  would 
be  at  the  scribbler’s  left ;  the  ponderous  revolving  book¬ 
case  was  at  the  other  hand.  Shelves  and  stands  were 
built  on  every  side  for  such  volumes  as  were  professional 
or  most  frequently  needed,  and  then  X.  was  ready  to 
begin  at  a  yarn  for  a  long-suffering  publisher,  who  was 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORKSHOP.  1 87 

politely  but  positively  upbraiding  him  for  not  getting  to 
work  before. 

“  Dunraven  Ranch”  was  the  first  story  attempted,  and 
Mr.  X.  fondly  hoped,  and  Mrs.  X.  confidently  prophe¬ 
sied,  it  could  be  done  in  a  month.  “The  Deserter” 
had  only  taken  three  weeks.  “  From  the  Ranks”  was 
written  in  four,  and  that  was  sufficient,  said  her  ladyship, 
to  prove  that  the  new  story  could  be  done  easily  and 
readily  in  just  as  short  a  time,  now  that  at  last  X.  had 
his  den. 

And  this  is  the  way  it  worked :  Breakfast  is  over  on  a 
bright  June  day.  The  schools  have  closed.  The  chil¬ 
dren  of  the  neighborhood  appear  to  be  congregated  in 
our  seventy-five  by  fifty  back  yard,  and  a  very  pretty 
and  picturesque  lot  they  make.  There  are  over  a  dozen 
little  maids  of  every  age,  from  five  to  fifteen.  There  are 
no  boys  except  tiny  scamps  of  three  and  four  summers, 
X.  junior  among  them.  They  are  playing  “  puss  in  the 
corner,”  and  the  game  is  in  full  blast.  Mr.  X.  in  spirit 
is  away  on  the  Llano  Estacado,  telling,  or  trying  to  tell, 
of  a  race  with  the  Rossiter  hounds.  The  fun  grows  fast 
afid  furious  in  the  playground.  Some  girls  cannot  laugh 
without  screaming,  cannot  catch  or  be  caught  without 
ear-piercing  shrieks.  X.  cannot  bear  to  spoil  their  fun, 
and  cannot  work  ahead  so  much  as  a  line  within  earshot 
of  such  a  racket.  He  compromises;  gets  up  and  closes 
the  windows  and  resumes  his  seat  and  pen.  But  he 
cannot  so  soon  get  back  to  Texas.  “  Let’s  see,  where 
were  we?  ‘The  stream  bent  southward  just  at  the 
point  where  he  had  first  caught  sight  of  the  horseman, 
and - ’  ” 

Rat-tat-tat  on  the  door.  “  Come  in  !” 


1 88 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


“  Oh,  Mr.  X.,  the  man’s  here  about  the  carpet !” 

“  What  carpet  ?” 

“  I  don’t  know,  sir.  He  says  Mrs.  X.  was  at  the  store 
yesterday.” 

“Where’s  Mrs.  X.” 

“  Gone  to  market.  She  said  she’d  be  back  in  en 
minutes.” 

“  Then  tell  him  to  wait  ten  minutes.” 

To  the  desk  again.  And  back  to  the  banks  of  the 
Monee  in  pursuit  of  the  thread  of  the  yarn.  It  proves 
illusive.  Row  in  the  back  yard.  A  Babel  of  childish 
voices.  Lamentations  and  general  excitement.  The 
Abigail  from  the  kitchen  vainly  endeavors  to  restore 
quiet.  For  a  minute  X.  remains  in  the  Pan-handle  of 
Texas  hunting  for  that  thread ;  but  the  wails  from  this 
particular  back  yard,  in  the  Cream  City,  fetch  him 
forthwith.  Down  goes  the  pen.  Up  goes  the  window. 
“  What’s  the  matter,  daughter  ?” 

“  Maudie  Wilkins  threw  Birdie  Jones’s  hat  over  in  the 
next  yard,  and  now  she  won’t  go  and  get  it.” 

“  She  pulled  my  doll’s  shoes  off,  an’  she’s  got  ’em,” 
says  the  accused  Maud,  who  stoutly  declines  to  come 
into  the  garden  of  our  neighbor  and  recover  the  vanished 
hat. 

“  I  didn’t,”  bawls  Birdie.  If  Birdie  grows  up  with  that 
voice,  she’ll  be  a  joy  to  her  husband,  thinks  Mr.  X.  He 
never  had  much  luck  in  settling  the  quarrels  of  women 
and  children,  and  the  buffets  of  past  experience  warn  him 
not  to  try. 

“  Evangeline  !” — this  to  the  kitchen  goddess  below, 
who,  like  Frank  Stockton’s  Pomona  who  longed  to  be 
called  Clare,  was  ambitious  as  to  her  Christian  name, 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORKSHOP.  1 89 

and  was  probably  only  Angie  originally,  but  the  process 
of  evangelization  began  when  she  came  to  live  with  us, — 
“  Evangeline,  will  you  kindly  step  next  door  and  recover 
that  hat,  and  give  Birdie  an  apple,  or  a  watermelon, 
something  to  stop  that  awful  gap.” 

Evangy  vanishes.  So  does  Birdie,  howling.  The 
prospect  of  so  tame  a  recovery  of  the  ravished  head-gear 
is  not  soothing  to  her  wounded  spirit.  Her  soul’s  in 
arms  and  eager  for  the  humiliation  of  Maud.  She  can 
be  traced  out  across  the  street,  up  the  walk  on  the  west¬ 
ern  side,  across  the  place  with  the  lofty  name  beyond,  as 
in  the  old  days  we  could  follow  the  “  Armenia”  miles 
through  the  Hudson  highlands  by  the  echoing  toot  of 
her  steam  calliope.  The  children  anticipate  reprisals 
from  the  quarter  whither  she  has  gone.  Maud  scuttles 
homeward  to  escape  the  excoriation  that  Birdie’s  mother 
is  said  to  administer,  and  presently  she  comes.  There’s 
a  ring  at  the  bell,  a  knock  at  the  den  door. 

“  Mrs.  Jones  is  here,  Mr.  X.,  and  wants  to  see  you.  I 
told  her  Mrs.  X.  was  out.” 

“  Did  you  tell  Mrs.  Jones  I  was  very  busy  ?”  groans  X. 

“Yes,  sir;  but  she  says  she  must  see  somebody.” 

Now,  we  don’t  know  Mrs.  Jones  at  all  except  by  repu¬ 
tation,  which  is  one  reason  we  know  her  no  better.  She 
is  not,  so  to  speak,  in  our  set.  She  has  four  children 
who  do  not  go  to  school  with  ours,  and  who  are  not 
congenial  playmates.  Indeed,  some  of  our  little  friends 
who  are  school-mates  of  our  kids,  and  who  eagerly  wel¬ 
comed  us  to  this  charming  neighborhood,  have  received 
parental  injunctions  not  to  play  with  the  Jones  girls  at 
anytime.  But  the  little  Joneses  are  all-pervading.  De¬ 
spite  their  unpopularity,  they  go  everywhere,  and  wher- 


I9O  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

ever  they  go  there  is  sure  to  be  a  row.  It  seems  they 
have  few  toys  or  playthings  of  their  own  and  are  pos¬ 
sessed  of  the  acquisitive  faculty  in  marked  degree.  They 
were  prompt  to  call  and  welcome  us  on  the  day  of  our 
arrival,  and  have  been  from  that  time  to  this  the  most 
sociable  of  our  neighbors.  Mr.  X.  has  been  surprised  to 
find  the  quartette  pulling  over  the  books  in  the  library 
before  breakfast-time  on  more  than  one  occasion,  and 
pending  the  appearance  of  our  little  people  out  of  doors, 
the  Joneses  have  not  infrequently  possessed  themselves 
of  the  tricycle,  bicycle,  doll  carriages,  express  wagon, 
etc.,  etc.,  and  contented  themselves  therewith  for  hours 
while  our  lambkins  lamented.  Stringent  measures 
have  resulted  in  their  exclusion  from  the  house  when 
unbidden,  but  who  could  single  out  two  or  three  of  a 
group  of  children  and  forbid  them  the  playground  ? 

Yet  wheresoever  they  go  there  is  trouble,  and  what¬ 
soever  may  be  their  own  misdeeds,  the  uproar  with  which 
they  rush  around  the  block  to  the  maternal  arms  brings 
her  promptly  to  the  rescue,  and  the  tale  of  inflicted 
wrong  sends  her  forthwith  to  the  scene.  Mrs.  Jones  is 
here  to  demand  satisfaction.  And  the  police  patrol  is  a 
mile  away.  Good-by,  Dunraven ;  good-by. 

Mr.  X.  regains  his  den  in  half  an  hour,  wilted.  But 
for  the  coming  of  Mrs.  X.  he  couldn’t  have  regained  it 
at  all.  That  woman  has  the  soul  of  a  Desaix.  She  heard 
the  one-sided  battle  from  afar.  She  marched  au  canon 
forthwith.  Mrs.  Jones  is  in  tears  and  the  midst  of  a 
terrible  tale  of  her  little  Birdie’s  sweet,  shy,  sensitive 
spirit  that  shrivels  under  harshness  or  injustice.  The 
child  had  loved  mine  so.  Here  at  last  she  had  found 
playmates  who  could  understand  her,  sympathize  with 


THE  ADTANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORKSHOP.  191 

her.  Mrs.  Jones  had  been  so  happy  in  seeing  how 
eagerly  her  children  had  rushed  forth  each  morning  to 
spend  the  day  at  the  X.’s,  and  now,  like  all  the  others, 
the  X.’s  too  were  turning  against  her  precious  lambs. 
Especially  the  lamb  that  had  thrown  herself  howling 
like  a  fog-horn  out  of  the  yard  with  the  doll  shoes  in 
her  pocket.  But  that  was  accidental,  as  Mrs.  Jones  tri¬ 
umphantly  established  after  denying  their  presence  there. 

The  row  has  cast  a  damper  over  the  spirits  of  the 
children,  and  a  wet  blanket  over  the  Llano  Estacado. 
It  was  a  blaze  of  sunshine  there  at  ten  o’clock.  Now  at 
10.40  it  seems  to  be  pouring.  Mrs.  Jones  has  gone,  for 
she  found  it  more  difficult  to  hammer  her  views  into  the 
head  of  the  lady  of  the  house,  but  her  spirit  hovers 
over  the  Presently  up  comes  Mrs.  X.  “  She  won’t 

come  here  again,”  she  says.  “  Now,  what  can  I  do  for 
you  down-town  ?” 

“  Bring  me  a  bull-dog,  the  ugliest  you  can  find,  and 
tie  him  at  the  front  door.  Must  you  go  ?  I’ve  written 
only  ten  lines  in  two  hours.” 

“  I’ve  got  to.  There’s  that  sewing-girl  coming  to¬ 
morrow  and  the  material  not  yet  bough.,  the  Blakes 
and  Walkers  come  to  tea  to-night  and  I  haven’t  a  thing. 
I’ll  give  orders  you  are  not  to  be  disturbed  for  anything.” 
And  the  lady  of  the  house  departs  in  that  serene  confi¬ 
dence  which  so  many  housewives  seem  to  have  when 
new  at  the  business,  that  all  that  is  necessary  is  to  order 
and  folks  obey.  She  is  gone  but  ten  minutes,  and  X.  is 
traveling  back  to  Texas  slowly.  The  children  are  again 
at  their  play,  though  less  noisily,  and  X.  ventures  to 
leave  his  window  up  again.  A  hand-organ  is  heard  in 
the  distance.  Blessed  relief.  “  Money  for  the  monkey  ? 


192 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


Yes,  my  child,  gladly.  Here’s  a  whole  dime.  Keep  him 
and  the  crowd  a  block  away  as  long  as  you  can.”  Ring 
at  the  bell ;  knock  at  the  den  door.  Evangeline  with  a 
telegram : 

“  Sorry  to  disturb  you,  but  the  boy  says  *  it’s  collect.’  ” 

“  It  isn’t.  It’s  paid.  He’s  a  young  swindler.  Tell 
him  so.” 

The  dispatch  is  from  publishers  :  “  Anxiously  awaiting 
manuscript.  When  will  it  be  here  ?” 

Back  comes  Evangeline.  “  It’s  the  answer  to  be  paid ; 
and  he  wants  car-fare  for  coming  so  far  up-town.” 

“  He  will  spend  it  in  peanuts  and  chewing-gum.  He 
would  never  ride.  He  couldn’t  stop  and  play  marbles 
if  he  did.  It  is  paying  a  premium  on  dawdling;  but 
here  goes.  Give  him  a  dime,  and  shut  the  door.” 

Back  in  two  minutes.  “  Is  there  no  answer  ?  Man¬ 
ager  said  not  to  come  back  without  it.”  What  answer 
can  I  send  ?  Ten  lines  in  two  hours.  More.  It’s  eleven 
o’clock.  There  go  the  cathedral  bells  now.  “  When 
will  the  manuscript  get  there  ?  I  don’t  know.  At  this 
rate,  never.  Tell  him  so.  Stay !  Tell  him  two  o’clock 
next  spring,  that’s  as  definite  as  I  can  make  it.  And 
shut  the  door.” 

Back  to  the  valley  of  the  Monee  at  last.  The  cloud- 
shadows  are  sailing  over  the  pampas.  The  cattle  far 
towards  the  horizon  are  browsing  slowly  down  to  water. 
The  Indian  ponies  on  the  slope  beyond  the  Cheyenne 
village  are  sleepily  switching  at  the  flies  that  swarm  in 
myriads  about  them.  The - 

“  Ow-w-w — Wa-a-a-h.  O-eee — Go  way!  Wa-a-a-h. 
O-hoo-oo — I  won't!  Wa-a-a-a-h  !  /” 

Down-stairs,  three  at  a  jump.  It’s  the  voice  of  my 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORKSHOP.  1 93 


little  Benjamin,  the  lamb  of  the  flock,  my  baby  boy. 
He  comes  toddling  through  to  the  back  yard,  sur¬ 
rounded  by  a  swarm  of  sisters,  cousins,  friends,  all  sym¬ 
pathetic,  all  soothing,  all  voluble  in  explanation,  all 
unavailing. 

“  What’s  the  matter,  my  precious  little  man.  Come 
right  to  dad  and  tell  him.” 

“  I  want  ma-amma..  That  n-na-asty  old  Rover  f-frowed 
me  in  the  mud.  Wa-a-a-h  !” 

Rover  is  our  neighbor’s  dog,  big  and  playful,  devoted 
to  my  son  and  heir.  It  takes  time,  much  time,  to  con¬ 
sole  the  little  man  and  more  to  repair  damages.  It  is 
11.30  when  X.  gets  back  to  “  Dunraven.”  It  is  11.35 
when  a  note  is  handed  in. 

“Dear  Captain  X., — 

“  We  have  a  little  fancy-dress  party  to-night,  and  my  cousin,  Mr. 

H - ,  of  Chicago,  has  unexpectedly  arrived,  and,  as  luck  would  have 

it,  without  a  costume  of  any  kind.  He  is  just  about  your  size,  and  I  told 
him  I  knew  you  would  be  only  too  glad  to  let  me  have  for  him  the  uni¬ 
form  you  lent  Harry  for  the  theatricals  last  year.  We  will  take  the  best 
of  care  of  it,  and  be  so  much  obliged.  Please  send  it  by  bearer. 

“  Yours  sincerely, 

“  E.  V.  B.  B - . 

“  P.S. — Oh,  yes,  and  please  send  the  helmet  with  the  lovely  plume, 
and  the  high  boots,  and  the  sword.  Also  the  gauntlets. 

“  P.S. — And  would  you  mind  letting  us  have  the  white  summer  dress, 
if  not  too  much  trouble?” 

Lord  no!  It’s  no  trouble  at  all.  Some  of  the  traps 
are  up-stairs  in  the  garret,  some  down  in  the  cellar. 
Can’t  the  boy  come  this  afternoon  when  Mrs.  X.  is 
home  ?  No.  He  is  only  a  “  lightning  delivery”  boy, 
and  once  is  enough.  It  is  12.30  by  the  time  X.  roots 

these  things  out,  and  he  has  just  packed  them,  in  one 

in  17 


194 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


shape  or  other,  into  the  wagon  when  the  three-quarter 
strikes,  and  Evangeline  meets  him, — consternation  in  her 
eye. 

“  Mr.  X.!  Didn’t  Mrs.  X.  order  whitefish  for  tea  to¬ 
night?  They’ve  sent  up  a  big  trout.” 

“Whitefish,  of  course.  Go  over  to  the  Hartwell’s 
with  my  compliments,  and  ask  if  you  can  telephone  to 
the  fish-market  to  send  for  this  trout  at  once.  We  don’t 
want  it.  We  must  have  whitefish.  And  I  must  get  back 
to  my  work.” 

Again  at  the  den.  Again  screams  of  dismay  from 
the  children.  No  Evangeline  to  answer  their  frantic  cries. 
My  eldest  daughter  flies  up  the  stairs. 

“  What  is  it,  my  Brownie  ?” 

“Oh,  papa!  Could  you  come  to  the  cellar?  Prince 
Purr-Purr  has  got  his  head  caught  in  an  empty  tomato- 
can  and  can’t  get  it  out,  and  he’s  nearly  wild.” 

So  am  I ;  but  I  fly  to  the  rescue  of  Prince  Purr-Purr, 
— who  is  the  household  cat  and  pet.  The  process  of 
extrication  is  not  pleasant  for  Purr-Purr,  and  he  makes 
it  lively  for  me.  I  am  tempted  to  leave  him  caught  as 
he  is,  but  the  entreaties  of  the  children  prevail.  His 
claws  have  gashed  one  hand  and  added  to  the  excoria¬ 
tions  on  my  temper.  It  is  after  one  when  I  get  to  the 
desk.  Meantime,  Evangeline  has  returned  with  the  in¬ 
formation  that  she  cannot  get  the  fishmonger.  It  is  also 
time  for  the  children’s  luncheon.  We  dine — or  rather 
tea — late  to-day,  for  friends  are  coming  to  try  Lake 
Superior  whitefish,  and  the  villain  has  sent  us  trout.  X. 
gives  up.  The  manuscripts  are  pitched  into  the  bottom 
drawer,  and  a  street-car  takes  him  down-town.  “  Simply 
a  mistake  on  the  boy’s  part,”  says  the  imperturbable 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORKSHOP.  195 

vender  of  fish,  poultry,  and  game.  He  has  left  your 
whitefish  at  the  Comstocks,  and  their  trout  with  you. 
Why  didn’t  you  telephone  ?” 

“  Couldn’t  get  you,  was  Central’s  explanation.  Will 
you  kindly  bless  that  boy  for  me?”  And  X.  goes  home, 
ruffled  in  spirit  and  sore  athirst  and  an  hungered.  Mrs. 
X.  is  exhibiting  the  den  to  a  lady  friend  as  he  returns, — 
all  her  lady  friends,  at  one  time  or  other,  seem  to  have 
come  to  see  the  house. 

“  Oh,  Captain  X.,”  says  the  enthusiastic  visitor,  “  I’ve 
just  been  telling  Mrs.  X.  how  lovely  it  all  is;  but  this — 
this  is  perfectly  charming.  What  inspiration  you  must 
find  here, — the  lovely  rippling  waters,  the  gleeful  shouts 
of  the  children,  the - ” 

But  Mrs.  X.  sees  that  the  other  side  is  uppermost  in 
her  husband’s  mind  just  now,  and  laughingly  inter¬ 
poses, — 

“  Why  don’t  you  get  a  telephone,  and  have  peace  ?” 
she  says,  when  the  story  of  the  morning  is  told.  “  You 
wouldn’t  have  had  to  go  at  all.” 

Now,  it  was  one  of  Mr.  X.’s  stipulations  that  we 
shouldn’t  have  a  telephone  when  we  got  the  little  home. 
— He  had  had  some  experiences  with  it. — But  we’ve  got 
one  now.  It  isn’t  in  the  den,  but  I  hear  it  the  Lord  only 
knows  how  many  times  a  day.  It  is  of  no  earthly  use 
to  me,  for  the  electric  cars  came  in  with  it,  and  whenever 
I  want  anybody  down-town,  the  only  way  I  can  get  them, 
as  a  rule,  is  by  the  street-car.  On  the  other  hand, 
nobody  seems  to  have  any  difficulty  in  getting  us, — 
especially  those  who  don’t  want  us  at  all.  A  dozen 
times  a  day  am  I  summoned  to  the  instrument  by  its 
sharp  ring. 


196  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

“  Hello  !” 

“  Hello  !  Is  that  Saint  Mary’s  ?” 

“  No  saint  at  all.  It’s  Captain  X.” 

“  Oh  (disgustedly),  I  didn’t  want  you.  Central ! 
Ce-e-e-ntral !  Can’t  you  get  me  St.  Mary’s  ?”  and  the 
shrill,  feminine  voice  holds  the  line. 

X.  was  hard  at  work  and  behind  time,  as  usual,  the 
other  day,  when  there  came  a  vigorous  ring.  It  was  the 
steward  of  the  club  who  called. 

“  Captain  X.,  Colonel  Bbbbleton  wants  particularly  to 
see  you,  and - ” 

“  Colonel  who  ?” 

“  Colonel  Bbbbleton,  from  Chicago.” 

“  Spell  it.” 

“  I  can’t.” 

“Ask  him  to  come  to  the  instrument.” 

“  He  isn’t  here.  He’s  just  gone  out.  Says  he’ll  be 
back  in  half  an  hour,  but  wants  particularly  to  see  you.” 

Now,  X.  had  just  missed  one  old  chum  who  was  pass¬ 
ing  through  town.  He  had  heard  from  another  back 
number  of  a  retired  soldier,  like  himself,  that  a  distin¬ 
guished  member  of  the  division  commander’s  staff  was 
likely  to  come  to  town  in  the  course  of  the  month,  and 
was  eager  to  meet  him,  and  so  had  dropped  him  a  line 
to  be  sure  and  call  him  up  at  the  club  when  he  arrived. 
X.  dropped  his  work,  boarded  a  car,  and  shot  down¬ 
town.  Colonel  Bbbbleton  hadn’t  returned,  said  the 
steward,  but  he  was  so  particularly  anxious  to  see  Mr. 
X.  that  he  had  telephoned.  A  full  hour  did  X.  wait,  and 
then  the  gentleman  came, — a  total  stranger. 

“  Oh  !  Is  this  Captain  X.  ?  I  am  Colonel  B - ,  of 

the  Mulligan  Mound  Military  Academy,  Illinois.  I  pro- 


THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  ONE’S  OWN  WORKSHOP.  1 9 7 

pose  bringing  my  cadets  up  here  for  a  parade  next  week, 
and  I  had  heard  of  you  as  one  of  the  military  men 
hereabouts,  and  thought  you  might  be  able  to  tell  me 
where  I’d  find  a  drummer  who  wouldn’t  charge  me  too 
much.” 

Mr.  X.  told  him,  and  went  back  to  his  den,  wondering 
what  some  colonels  were  made  of. 

“  O  for  a  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness !”  It  took 
four  months  instead  of  four  weeks  to  finish  “  Dunraven,” 
and  it  well-nigh  finished  the  writer.  But  that  was  some¬ 
thing  our  readers  could  perhaps  have  borne  with  equa¬ 
nimity. 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


HOW  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLE¬ 
THORPE. 

Never  mind  the  real  name  of  the  place  ;  it  is  just  possi¬ 
ble  that  the  State  Central  Committee  might  not  care  to 
have  the  story  brought  home  to  them,  even  after  the 
lapse  of  so  many  years.  They  certainly  were  not  over¬ 
anxious  to  have  it  spread  broadcast  throughout  the  land 
at  the  time,  although  the  individual  members  derived  no 
end  of  comfort  from  the  incident,  and  there  was  much 
poking  of  one  another  in  the  ribs  and  exploding  into  guf¬ 
faws  of  delighted  laughter,  and  sudden  cessation  thereof 
and  straightening  of  faces  into  an  expression  of  preter¬ 
natural  gravity  and  innocence  when  certain  of  the  oppo¬ 
sition  happened  to  come  around  the  corner.  It  was  long 
after  the  trying  days  of  the  reconstruction  period,  and 
the  army  had  been  relieved  from  its  detested  duty  of 
“supervising”  elections  in  the  Sunny  South;  but  it  was 
before  the  resumption  of  Democratic  supremacy  through¬ 
out  the  cotton-growing  States,  and  when  in  some,  even 
many,  parishes  or  counties  the  colored  voters  still  out¬ 
numbered  the  whites  as  many  as  twenty  to  one,  and  the 
nominees  of  the  lately-enfranchised  were  cock-sure  of 
election,  provided  their  constituents  exercised  the  right 
of  suffrage.  There  were  districts  in  the  South  where  the 
so-called  shot-gun  policy  had  dissuaded  many  darkies 
from  attendance  at  the  polls.  There  were  towns  and 


HOW  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLETHORPE.  1 99 

cities  where  blacks  and  whites  were  nearly  balanced  in 
point  of  numbers,  and  where,  as  a  consequence,  they 
were  almost  solidly  arrayed  one  against  the  other ;  and 
the  question  at  issue  was  not  whether  a  Republican  or  a 
Democrat  would  be  chosen,  but  whether  the  white  or  the 
black  man  was  to  “  rule  the  roast”  in  that  community. 

And  this  was  practically  the  situation  at  Oglethorpe  in 
the  lovely  autumn  of  188-.  Counting  in  the  suburbs  of 
Congo  Creek  and  Ashantiville,  the  population  of  the  old 
Southern  city  was  not  far  from  sixty  thousand.  Leaving 
out  these  charming  settlements,  the  number  of  souls  in 
the  city  proper  was  probably  forty-five  thousand,  with  the 
preponderance  in  favor  of  the  whites ;  but,  leaving  out 
the  city  proper  and  counting  only  the  suburbs,  no  whites 
could  be  found  among  the  residents,  except  within  the 
walls  of  the  lunatic  asylum,  which  stood  close  by  the 
river-bank  and  within  the  confines  of  Ashantiville,  yet 
somewhat  removed  from  touch  with  its  thronging  hovels. 
Possibly  it  was  a  shrewd  appreciation  of  the  political 
opportunities  thus  presented  which  had  prompted  the 
Legislature,  in  the  days  of  what  the  local  press  termed 
“  Senegambian  supremacy,”  to  decree  that  these  two  sub¬ 
urban  villages,  with  their  teeming,  moss-grown  old 
quarters,  should  be  attached  to  the  city  proper ;  not  that 
any  perceptible  increase  in  the  municipal  revenue  would 
result  thereby  (indeed,  the  opposite  effect  was  noted  from 
the  start),  but  that  the  intelligence  and  patriotism  of 
Congo  Creek  and  Ashantiville  might  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  all  important  questions  arising  in  the  town,  espe¬ 
cially  in  the  biennial  election  of  mayor  and  councilmen. 

Little  by  little  as  the  personal  complexion  of  the  Legis¬ 
lature  had  changed  from  the  all-pervading  black  of  the 


200 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


early  ’yo’s  to  the  general  Caucasian  white  of  the  early 
’8o’s,  so,  too,  had  the  political  hue  undergone  transfor¬ 
mation  from  radical  Republicanism  to  a  very  evenly  mot¬ 
tled  House,  and  a  Senate  in  which  the  Caucasian  rejoiced 
in  a  majority  of  two.  Those  modern  distractions  of 
Northern  politics  embraced  under  the  heads  of  Labor  and 
Prohibition  parties  were  unknown  to  Oglethorpe.  There 
were  but  two  factions  in  the  field,  and  when  the  Demo¬ 
cratic  Central  Committee  began  to  look  the  ground  over 
and  prepare  for  the  fall  elections  of  188-,  hope  died  in 
their  bosoms,  for  the  metropolis  of  their  fertile  State 
seemed  to  be  more  densely  populated  with  presumable 
Republicans  than  at  any  time  in  its  previous  history.  It 
was  to  be  a  most  important  election  for  Oglethorpe.  The 
city  credit  had  suffered  severely  in  the  past.  The 
“  carpet-bag”  mayors  and  councilmen  had  run  things  to 
suit  themselves,  greatly  to  the  detriment  of  the 
merchants,  property-owners,  and  responsible  citizens  of 
the  once  beautiful  and  attractive  town.  Matters  had  been 
going  from  bad  to  worse,  and  at  last  the  representative 
men  of  the  neighborhood  arose  in  their  might  and  de¬ 
clared  that  now  the  time  had  come  to  call  a  halt.  The 
Legislature  could  not  be  induced,  as  yet,  to  undo  the  old 
act  and  divest  Oglethorpe  of  those  parasitical  suburbs. 
Indeed,  there  was  ground  for  the  belief  that  certain  legis¬ 
lators,  whose  seats  were  insecure,  were  conniving  at  an 
active  scheme  of  colonization,  and  that  swarms  of  negroes 
who  had  no  earthly  chance  of  voting  across  the  borders 
of  “  a  remarkably  neighboring  State,”  where  the  shot-gun 
policy  obtained  in  full  force,  were  now  descending  upon 
Congo  Creek  and  Ashantiville,  and  who  the  dickens 
could  distinguish  them,  either  in  feature  or  statement, 


HOW  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLETHORPE.  201 


from  the  duly-qualified  electors  of  the  Oglethorpe  dis¬ 
trict?  Active  canvassers  assured  the  Democratic  Central 
Committee  that  the  adult  male  population  of  the  out¬ 
skirts  had  nearly  doubled  in  three  weeks.  The  day  of 
registration  had  come,  but  that  of  redemption  looked 
farther  off  than  ever.  One  of  the  most  irreclaimable 
scalawags  on  earth  had  been  nominated  by  accla¬ 
mation  as  the  candidate  of  the  “  carpet-bag”  party  for 
mayor,  and  a  dozen  lively  Ethiopians  had  been  selected 
to  run  for  the  common  council.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  white  citizens,  who  were  permanent  residents,  had, 
irrespective  of  party,  named  good  old  Judge  Fournier  as 
their  standard-bearer,  and  had  issued  a  fervent  appeal  to 
all  good  men,  white  or  black,  to  vote  for  this  incor¬ 
ruptible  gentleman  and  statesman,  and  to  down  the 
Hebrew  importation  who  had  bought,  as  was  well 
known,  the  nomination  of  the  convention. 

But  if  the  committee  felt  blue  and  discouraged  before 
the  completion  of  the  registration,  they  were  well-nigh 
hopeless  after  it.  Congo  Creek,  Ashantiville,  and  a  few 
colored  districts  in  town  showed  an  increase  of  nearly 
two  thousand  duly-qualified  electors  over  the  rolls  of  two 
years  back,  and  every  mother’s  son  of  them  was  ready  to 
swear  he  had  lived  there  over  eighteen  months  and  pro¬ 
posed  to  make  Oglethorpe  his  home.  Under  existing 
laws  the  Democrats  on  the  board  of  registration  had  to 
content  themselves  with  verbal  expressions  of  doubt  and 
derision :  they  could  not  interfere. 

“  No,  suh,”  said  Major  Carter,  or,  as  he  called  him¬ 
self,  “  Cyahtah,”  one  of  the  leading  Democrats  on  the 
board,  “  it’s  no  use  kicking  against  the  pricks.  We  can’t 
prove  what  we  believe,  and  the  way  things  look  now 


202 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


these  confounded  niggahs  will  outvote  us  about  two  to 
one  in  all  but  four  wards,  and  the  judge  will  be  swamped. 
I  tell  you,  gentlemen,  if  that  infernal  Jew  is  elected 
mayor  of  this  city  I’m  going  to  quit.” 

“  Ain’t  there  no  way  of  persuading  them  to  vote  the 
right  way  or  else  have  business  elsewhere,  like  they  do 
over  across  the  line  ?”  asked  Captain  Beaufort,  who  pre¬ 
ferred  the  vernacular  of  his  people  to  the  King’s  English 
of  any  other  section ;  and  he  jerked  his  head  backward 
to  indicate  that  he  meant  the  “  remarkably  neighboring 
State”  aforementioned. 

“  N-no,  suh ;  we  tried  something  of  that  kind  six  years 
ago,  and  got  the  federal  government  down  on  us  in  less’n 
no  time.  N-no,  suh ;  we  can’t  afford  anything  like  in¬ 
timidation.  And  no  power  on  earth  can  prevail  with 
those  benighted  creatures  against  the  statements  of  such 
infernal  scalawags  as  are  their  political  file-leaders.” 

“Well,  can’t  they  be  bought? — the  leaders,  I  mean?” 

“  Dassent  try  it,  suh.  You  see  you  have  to  buy  up 
the  whole  gang,  for  if  you  leave  one  out  he  peaches  on 
the  others,  and  then  the  whole  election  is  thrown  out. 
There  ain’t  money  enough  in  sight  to  buy  more  than  a 
dozen  of  them,  and  that  wouldn’t  do  at  all.  N-no,  suh, 
we  can’t  beat  and  we  can’t  bribe ;  I’m  blessed  if  I  know 
what  we  can  do.” 

“  Registration  all  perfectly  regular  ?” 

“Yes,  suh.  And  every  niggah  in  Oglethorpe  and  a 
whole  raft  from  outside  have  got  their  registration  papers, 
while  some  of  our  people  wouldn’t  register  at  all.  Said 
’twas  no  earthly  use,  and  I  reckon  they’re  pretty  near 
right.” 

Mr.  Alfred  Forno,  a  high-bred,  handsome  young  fellow 


HOW  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLETHORPE.  203 

of  twenty-six  or  seven,  who  had  sat  a  silent  listener, 
put  forth  his  hand  at  this  juncture,  took  up  one  of  the 
registration  blanks  from  a  pile  lying  on  the  table,  and 
curiously  studied  it,  whistling  softly  to  himself  as  he  did 
so.  It  was  a  stiff  card  about  four  by  two  inches  in  size 
and  bore  a  printed  legend  to  the  effect  that  the  bearer, 

“ . . . ,  of  number _ , . street,  age . years 

.  months,  was  duly  registered  at  the  office  of  the 

.  precinct,  .  ward  of  the  city  of  Oglethorpe,  on 

the  .  day  of  October,  and  will  be  entitled  to  vote  at 

the  polling  place  of  said  precinct,  said  ward,  on  Tuesday, 

November  3,  188 . ,  on  personal  presentation  of  this 

certificate.” 

Mr.  Fomo,  still  softly  whistling,  turned  this  card  over 
and  over  in  his  long  slender  fingers,  gazing  dreamily 
through  the  smoke  of  his  cigarette  at  a  highly-colored 
poster  on  the  opposite  wall.  Finally,  he  arose  and  began 
more  attentively  to  study  the  poster,  carelessly  tossing 
the  blank  registration  card  back  upon  the  table.  Major 
Carter  and  his  friend,  the  captain,  meantime  contin¬ 
ued  their  despondent  chat.  After  a  while,  Mr.  Forno 
turned. 

“  Every  niggah  got  one  of  these  hyuh  things  ?”  he 
queried. 

“  Every  adult  male  and  not  a  few  legal  infants,  suh,” 
was  the  answer.  “  But  who  could  swear  to  a  niggah’s 
age  ?  I  reckon  there’s  a  raft  of  boys  not  more’n  eighteen 
that  are  entitled  to  vote  by  the  fiat  of  that  board”  (he 
called  it  bode ,  but  the  reader  might  not  know  what  on 
earth  he  meant).  “Everyman  who  votes  has  to  hand 
in  his  registration  certificate  when  he  tenders  his  ballet ; 
that’s  our  law  over  hyuh.  How  is  it  in  Alabama?” 


204 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


“  Well-1,  we  haven’t  got  quite  so  methodical  as  yet,” 
answered  Mr.  Forno,  with  a  quiet  smile.  “  Our  system 
is  simpler  and  somewhat  more  elastic.  Now  you’ve 
got  just  three  weeks  in  which  to  meet  this  situation, 
as  I  understand  it.  Can’t  you  see  any  way  out  of  the 
trouble  ?” 

“Not  a  vestige  of  a  show,  suh.  Why?  Do  you?” 
And  Carter  looked  up  with  sudden  hope  and  interest; 
so  did  Beaufort ;  so  did  one  or  two  gentlemen  who  had 
been  silent,  but  despondent,  listeners.  They  all  knew 
Forno.  He  was  already  a  distinguished  man  in  the  legal 
profession,  and  his  fame  had  carried  him  on  many  a 
mission  beyond  the  borders  of  his  own  State. 

“  Possibly,”  he  answered. 

“  No  intimidation ;  no  hoodoo  business ;  no  bribery 
and  corruption ;  all  fair  and  above-board,  Fawno  ?” 

“  Perfectly.” 

“  Well,  I  just  tell  you,  suh,  that  Oglethorpe  will  build 
a  monument  in  your  honor  if  you’ll  just  show  us  how 
to  get  out  of  this  fix.” 

“  What  majority  does  the  registration  indicate  as  prob¬ 
able  ?” 

“  Not  a  head  less  than  twenty-four  hundred, — all  nig- 
gahs,  suh,  with  more  coming.” 

“  Well,  now,  does  every  one  of  these  hyuh  fellows 
hold  his  own  registration  certificate, — this  sort  of  thing, 
I  mean?”  And  Mr.  Forno  picked  up  the  card  again. 
“  Or  are  they  held  by  the  ward  bosses?” 

“  There  are  two  or  three  precincts  where  the  bosses 
have  them,  out  there  in  ’Shantyville  and  Congo  particu¬ 
larly  ;  but  we  bluffed  that  game  in  town.  Out  there  of 
cose  there’s  no  use  trying.  The  cyahpet-bag  bosses  just 


HOW  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLETHORPE.  20$ 

run  things  to  suit  themselves.  They  march  their  mokes 
up  to  the  polls  in  single  file  and  give  each  man  his  ticket 
and  his  cyahd  as  it  comes  his  tuhn  to  vote.  No,  suh ; 
hyuh  in  town  we  insisted  that  the  cyahd  should  be 
handed  to  the  ownah  and  nobody  else.” 

Mr.  Forno  whistled  softly  to  himself  a  moment. 

“  What’s  to  prevent  one  of  those  bosses  getting  a 
winning  ticket  in  the  Louisiana  lottery  next  week,  and 
being  given  money  enough  to  go  to  N’yohleans  to 
collect?” 

“  Well,  how  is  that  going  to  help  ?” 

“In  this  way:  he  won’t  be  able  to  collect;  he  won’t 
have  money  to  get  back  with,  and  you  can  start  some 
likely  niggahs  from  town  up  to  Congo  and  ’Shantiville 
with  the  story  that  he  was  bought  up,  certificates  and  all, 
and  now  they  wouldn’t  be  able  to  vote  unless  they  could 
get  their  papers  back  from  the  other  bosses.  It  would 
go  like  wildfire.  Everybody  knows  they’re  the  most 
credulous  people  on  the  face  of  the  globe.” 

“  But  it  seems  to  me,  Mr.  Fawno,  ’twould  be  easier  to 
get  those  certificates  away  from  the  bosses,  if  that’s  your 
game,  than  it  would  be  to  induce  each  individual  coon 
to  lose  his.” 

“  That  depends,  major,  on  how  much  campaign  fund 
you’ve  got,  or  can  raise.  How  much  have  you  ?” 

“  Well,  we  can  easily  make  it  five  thousand  for  a  sure 
thing,  but  at  this  moment  we  haven’t  more  than  two 
thousand  left.” 

“  Then  take  my  advice.  Invest  fifty  dollars,  or  a  little 
more,  perhaps,  in  sending  one  of  those  Congo  bosses 
off  to  Nyohleans  to  collect  a  five-thousand-dollar  prize. 
Start  the  suburbs,  in  about  ten  days  or  so,  on  a  raid 


20  6 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


upon  the  other  bosses  to  get  personal  possession  of  their 
certificates.  They’re  all  regularly  stamped  and  num¬ 
bered  and  have  corresponding  stubs  in  the  registration 
office  books,  haven’t  they  ?” 

“  Yes,  suh,  of  cose.” 

“All  right,  then.  You  just  see  that  as  much  as  pos¬ 
sible  every  colored  voter  in  Oglethorpe  has  his  own 
cyahd  by  the  25th  of  this  month ;  and  have,  say,  four 
thousand  dollars  ready.  It  won’t  take  that  much,  prob¬ 
ably,  but  I  want  to  be  sure  of  being  able  to  carry  out 
my  promise.  And  I’ll  bet  you  the  best  dinner  Victor 
can  lay  out  next  Mardi  Gras — a  dinner  for  ten — that 
Judge  Fournier  is  elected.” 

“  Done,  suh  !  done !  and  make  it  for  fifteen,  and  I’ll  be 
overjoyed  to  lose,”  exclaimed  Major  Carter,  excitedly. 
“  But,  you  must  excuse  me  now,  Mr.  Fawno  ;  I’m  blessed 
if  I  can  see  how  you’ll  do  it, — that  is,  awnestly.” 

“  I  give  you  my  word,  major,  that  there  will  be  no 
intimidation,  no  influence  brought  to  bear  other  than  the 
personal  predilection  of  the  citizen  of  African  descent. 
He  shall  be  a  free  agent  in  the  matter.  Is  it  a  bet?” 

“  Of  cose  it  is,  suh,  of  cose  it  is ;  anything  you 
say.” 

And  that  night,  having  finished  his  business  in  Ogle¬ 
thorpe,  Mr.  Forno  journeyed  back  to  Montgomery. 

Somewhere  about  the  middle  of  the  next  week  the 
Hon.  Alphonse  Beaudet,  recently  member  of  the  Legis¬ 
lature  for  the  third  assembly  district  in  Oglethorpe,  a 
colored  gentleman  of  considerable  pretensions  as  an 
orator  and  moderate  ability  as  a  barber,  a  leader  among 
his  kind,  and  the  holder  of  some  four  hundred  registra¬ 
tion  certificates,  suddenly  left  Oglethorpe.  Indeed,  it 


HOW  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLETHORPE.  207 

may  be  said,  he  secretly  left,  for  Mr.  Beaudet  was  a  man 
of  refined,  if  not  extravagant,  tastes.  He  had  been  a 
body-servant  in  the  halcyon  days  of  Southern  supremacy 
in  Congress  before  the  war;  had  become  imbued  with 
many  of  the  traits  and  fancies  of  his  master ;  and  his 
fondness  for  purple,  fine  linen,  and  the  flesh-pots  of 
Egypt  was  accompanied  by  a  lack  of  collateral  with 
which  to  defray  expenses.  In  fact,  despite  Mr.  Beaudet’s 
personal,  professional,  and  oratorical  graces,  he  was  a 
marked  man  in  the  community,  so  much  so  that  had  it 
been  known  that  he  contemplated  removal,  even  tempo¬ 
rarily,  from  the  limits  of  Oglethorpe  the  resultant  ne 
exeats  would  have  made  up  in  numbers  and  energy  all 
they  might  lack  of  legal  existence.  There  was  not  a 
colored  shopkeeper,  there  were  few  tailors,  hatters,  shoe¬ 
makers,  haberdashers,  whose  books  were  not  graced  by 
the  accounts  of  the  Hon.  Mr.  Beaudet  when  he  was  most 
prominent  and  looked  upon  as  a  permanency  in  the 
Legislature  of  the  State  of  his  nativity.  But  politics  has 
its  ups  and  downs  like  everything  else,  and  Beaudet  had  no 
more  successfully  “called  the  turn”  in  188-  than  he  had 
at  faro  the  previous  year.  “  Craps”  he  never  descended 
to  until  after  the  reverses  to  which  allusion  has  been 
made ;  “  craps”  and  the  barber-shop  came  in  together ; 
“  craps”  and  the  Louisiana  lottery  swallowed  the  earnings 
of  the  shop,  which  were  fair, — much  fairer  than  the  games 
he  played.  Beaudet  was  on  his  last  legs  financially  and 
politically,  when  one  afternoon  there  strolled  in  a  Mr. 
Sullivan,  a  young  Irishman  well  known  in  convivial  and 
political  circles;  and  Mr.  Sullivan  ostensibly  came  for  a 
shave.  Casually,  however,  he  drew  forth  and  began 
studying  a  slip  on  which  was  printed  what  purported  to 


208 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


be  the  winning  numbers  of  the  monthly  drawing  of  the 
Louisiana  lottery.  This  instantly  attracted  the  operator’s 
attention. 

“  Draw  anything,  suh?”  queried  the  orator  barber,  in 
his  blandest  manner. 

“  No,  d — n  it !  Beaudet,  I  never  do.  I’ve  been  buy¬ 
ing  for  years, — never  pulled  a  cent  yet.  I  had  a  chance, 
too.  Old  Sweeny  down  here  tells  me  he  had  two  of  the 
winning  numbers  in  his  shop  and  sold  ’em  both.  The 
lists  have  just  reached  him;  this  is  one  of  ’em.  One 
ticket  he  sold  drew  five  thousand  dollars,  the  other  an 
approximation  prize.  He  can’t  for  the  life  of  him  think 
who  bought  ’em,  and  he’s  trying  hard  to  get  hold  of  ’em 
now  so’s  to  buy  ’em  back,  you  know,  before  the  fellow 
finds  out  what  a  prize  he  holds.” 

“  What  number  won  the  five  thousand  dollars  ?”  asked 
Beaudet,  with  trembling  lips. 

“  No.  43,787,”  answered  Sullivan,  referring  to  his  list. 
“  D — n  it,  man  !  Look  out,  you’ll  cut  me  !” 

“  My  Lawd !  Mr.  Sullivan,  I  beg  pardon,  suh, — it’s,  it’s 
only  a  scratch.  My  Lawd!  Y-you  sure  ’bout  that 
number?  Let  me  just  look.” 

“  Sure  ?  Course  I  am !  Why,  you  lucky  dog  !  have 

»  _ 

you  got  that  number?  Sh !  Don’t  let  a  soul  know, 
Beaudet,  for  they’ll  be  down  on  you  in  a  minute.  Here ! 
don’t,  don’t  sell  it  at  a  discount  here.  You  take  my 
advice ;  you  go  right  on  to  Orleans  and  collect  it.” 

“  My  God,  suh  !  I — I — I’d  just  like  to  go,  but  I  ain’t 
got  a  cent,  Mr.  Sullivan, — not  a  cent,  suh  !  I’d — I’d  be 
willing  to  pay  mighty  handsome  for  just  enough  money 
to  take  me  there.”  And  Beaudet  looked  appealingly  in 
his  customer’s  face,  while  big  drops  of  sweat  started  out 


HOW  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLETHORPE.  209 

on  his  yellow-brown  forehead.  “  Hyuh,  suh,  hyuh’s  my 
ticket.  Ain’t  that  the  number  ?” 

"  Right  enough,  Beaudet !  Gad,  sir,  you  ought  to 
make  sure  of  that !  Ton  my  word,  I’ve  a  good  mind 


“  Oh,  if  you  only  would,  Mr.  Sullivan,  I — I — I’d  do 
most  anything  for  you.” 

“Well,  you’d  have  to  sneak  off,  Beaudet.  Those  cred¬ 
itors  of  yours  are  legion.  If  they  found  out  that  you’d 
won  a  prize  they’d  suck  you  dry.  You’ve  just  got  to 
gather  it  in,  bank  it  over  there  or  at  Mobile,  then  come 
back  here  without  a  word  to  anybody,  pay  off  each  man 
so  much  and  promise  the  rest.  Why,  it  would  set  you 
all  right  again,  wouldn’t  it  ?  Er — when  could  you 
go?” 

“  Go  to-night,  fust  train,  suh,  if  I  only  had  thirty  or 
forty  dollars,  enough  to  take  me  on  to  N’yohleans.  I’d 
pay  it  right  back,  Mr.  Sullivan,  ’deed  I  would,  and  more 
too ;  I’d  give  a  hundred  for  fifty.” 

“  Pshaw !  I’m  no  Jew.  You’re  a  pretty  decent  sort  of 
a  nigger,  Beaudet,  if  you’d  only  let  politics  alone.  Now, 
if  you’ll  swear  not  to  tell  a  soul  that  you  are  going,  I’ll 
tell  you  what  I’ll  do :  I’ll  have  a  ticket  to  New  Orleans 
all  ready  for  you  at  the  depot  at  eight  to-night  and  ten 
dollars  for  expenses.  It  won’t  do  for  you  to  buy  the 
ticket ;  that  would  give  you  dead  away,  see  ?  Don’t  take 
any  baggage.  Better  leave  your  watch  here,  too. 
Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  that, — I  need  security  of  some 
kind  in  case  of  an  accident  to  you.” 

And  Beaudet  only  too  eagerly  assented  to  everything. 
That  night  he  was  whirling  away  over  the  rice-fields,  too 
excited  to  sleep. 

18* 


0 


210 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


A  week,  ten  days,  passed  by.  Beaudet  failed  to  re¬ 
turn,  and  all  manner  of  stories  were  in  circulation  in  the 
suburbs.  Fiery  meetings  were  being  held  by  the  negroes, 
and  they  were  making  furious  demands  upon  the  bosses 
for  personal  possession  of  their  registration  cards.  Mat¬ 
ters  came  to  a  climax  on  Sunday,  the  25th  of  October. 
That  night  Major  Carter  wired  Mr.  Forno,  at  Mont¬ 
gomery,  that  the  voters  of  Ashantiville  and  Congo 
had  overwhelmed  the  bosses  and  obtained  their  cards. 
“  Four  thousand  ready”  was  the  significant  close  of  the 
dispatch. 

Meantime,  Mr.  Forno  had  not  been  idle.  A  big  “  tent 
show”  had  been  "  marching  through  Georgia”  in  Sep¬ 
tember,  and  then,  having  exhibited  in  Alabama,  and 
being  billed  at  Augusta,  was  bound  thence  to  Aiken, 
Lexington,  Columbia,  Spartanburgh,  etc.  Advance 
agents  were  already  preparing  to  “  paper”  the  rural  dis¬ 
tricts  adjoining  those  lovely  old  Southern  towns,  when 
they  were  called  off  by  telegraph  and  ordered  to  concen¬ 
trate  forthwith  at  Oglethorpe.  All  Tuesday  night  the 
paste-brushes  were  flying,  and  on  Wednesday  morning 
Oglethorpe — suburbs  and  all — was  ablaze  with  highly- 
colored  posters,  big  as  a  barn-door,  full  of  illustrations 
of  acrobats,  ground  and  lofty  tumbling,  magnificent  feats 
of  horsemanship,  daring  trapeze  acts,  bewilderingly  beau¬ 
tiful  equestriennes,  georgeous  cream-colored  chargers, 
trick  ponies  and  mules  by  the  dozen,  and — O  joy  to  the 
colored  heart! — a  big  brass  band  and  three  talented 
clowns.  All  Wednesday,  all  Thursday,  all  Friday,  all 
impatience  the  thronging  colored  colonies  of  Oglethorpe 
flocked  about  these  posters,  with  bulging,  wistful  eyes 
and  watering  mouths.  “  Two  grand  performances  only, 


HOW  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLETHORPE.  21 1 


to  be  preceded  by  a  street  procession  Saturday  morning. 
Two  grand  performances  Saturday  afternoon  and  even¬ 
ing.  Admission  for  adults,  with  reserved  seats,  one 
dollar.  General  admission,  seventy-five  cents.  Children, 
fifty  cents.” 

“The  management,  yielding  to  the  solicitation  of 
prominent  citizens  of  Oglethorpe,  has  at  great  expense 
cancelled  its  dates  in  the  interior  in  order  that  it  may  pre¬ 
sent  to  its  host  of  friends  in  the  metropolis  of  the  South¬ 
eastern  States  its  coruscation  of  new,  daring,  bewildering 
stars  now  embraced  in  the  catalogue  of  its  unparalleled 
attractions.  But  in  view  of  the  heavy  cost  involved  in  so 
sudden  a  change  of  plans,  the  management  is  compelled 
to  raise,  for  this  occasion  only ,  the  scale  of  prices.  Elegant 
and  commodious  accommodations  will  be  provided  for 
all,  but  the  customary  twenty-five-cent  admission, 
hitherto  accorded  the  colored  populace,  is  reluctantly 
withdrawn.” 

As  not  one  darky  in  a  dozen  among  the  inhabitants 
of  Congo  and  Ashantiville  had  so  much  as  a  quarter, 
this  really  made  little  difference.  What  did  make  it 
hard  was  the  fact  that  while  he  might  possibly  earn  a 
quarter  ’twixt  now  and  Saturday,  it  was  only  by  extra 
hard  work  that  he  could  hope  to  get  seventy-five  cents, 
and  extra  hard  work  was  something  not  to  be  thought 
of.  Then,  too,  what  good  was  a  circus  without  a  quarter 
for  whisky  and  “  goobers”  ?  It  was  hard  lines  on  the 
colored  folks,  and  their  orators  made  the  most  of  it  in 
the  big  meetings  held  Wednesday  and  Thursday  nights. 
Here  was  a  manifest  effort  to  deprive  the  poor" colored 
man  of  his  rights.  Here  was  outrageous  oppression 
and  wrong  on  the  part  of  the  whites.  Things  looked 


212 


TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 


almost  like  a  riot,  especially  when  it  began  to  be  spread 
abroad  among  the  colored  folks  that  never,  never  had 
there  been  seen  such  a  circus  in  the  South.  It  was  the 
finest  thing  going.  All  day  they  swarmed  in  front  of 
the  blazing  posters.  All  Friday  night  hundreds  of  men, 
women,  and  children  hung  about  the  big  square  while 
the  tents  were  being  pitched  and  the  wagons  came  trun¬ 
dling  in ;  and  then,  when  Saturday  morning  dawned, 
Congo  Creek  and  Ashantiville  streamed  into  the  broad 
thoroughfares  of  the  city.  During  the  parade  the  band, 
in  its  lofty  gilded  chariot,  was  surrounded  by  a  thousand 
enthusiastic  blacks ;  the  banquette  was  jammed  with 
eager  black  faces,  with  shining  white  teeth.  The  pro¬ 
cession  was  the  finest  ever  seen  of  the  kind  in  Ogle¬ 
thorpe,  and  there  was  not  a  moke  in  all  the  metropolis 
who  wouldn’t  have  bartered  his  pet  hoodoo  charm  for  a 
ticket,  when  a  strange  rumor  began  to  fly  from  lip  to  lip, 
— a  new  announcement. 

“  The  management,  unwilling  to  deprive  so  large  and 
intelligent  a  body  of  citizens  of  the  opportunity  of  wit¬ 
nessing  this  transcendently  beautiful  performance,  has, 
at  the  last  moment,  decided  to  place  on  sale  single 
tickets  admitting  one  colored  gentleman  and  lady  at  the 
greatly  reduced  price  of  one  dollar, — a  concession  not 
accorded  to  any  citizens  except  those  of  color.  Gentle 
manly  agents  will  immediately  appear  upon  the  streets 
to  personally  see  to  it  that  our  colored  friends  have  every 
opportunity  of  purchasing.” 

Fifteen  minutes  later  a  still  wilder  rumor  was  afloat, 
and  Congo  Creek  and  Ashantiville  were  racing  up  one 
another’s  heels  in  frantic  haste  to  reach  those  agents. 

Any  gentleman  temporarily  out  of  funds  will  be  provided 


HOW  WE  ELECTED  THE  MAYOR  OF  OGLETHORPE.  21 3 

with  one  of  these  tickets  on  depositing  as  security  his  regis¬ 
tration  card .” 

Few  white  folks  appeared  at  those  magnificent  per¬ 
formances  either  Saturday  afternoon  or  evening.  They 
couldn’t  get  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  entrance  if 
they  tried  ;  but  they  didn’t  try.  Congo  Creek,  Ashanti- 
ville,  and  the  colored  precincts  of  Oglethorpe  were  on 
the  ground  in  overwhelming  numbers.  The  big  tent 
could  hardly  hold  the  solid  masses  of  dusky  humanity. 
The  performances  went  off  with  much  eclat.  The  throng 
slowly  drifted  forth  as  the  last  act  was  finished  and  the 
canvas  began  to  be  lowered  over  their  very  heads ;  and 
while  the  circus  men  packed  their  wagons  and  “  folded 
their  tents  like  the  Arabs,”  the  management  slid  over  to 
the  Jasper  House,  where  Major  Carter  and  a  friend  or 
two  were  sipping  Clicquot  in  a  private  room.  Two 
satchels  of  dingy,  malodorous,  but  valuable  registration 
cards  were  dumped  upon  a  table  and  gingerly  counted. 
Two  fat  wads  of  greenbacks  were  popped  into  those  bags 
in  their  stead.  The  management  drank  to  the  success 
of  the  State  Central  Committee,  and,  slyly  winking, 
departed. 

There  was  frantic  raving  among  the  orators  of 
Ashantiville  at  the  meetings  of  Sunday  and  Monday 
nights,  in  which  Mr.  Beaudet,  just  back  from  a  freight- 
car  trip  from  New  Orleans,  took  prominent  part.  And 
when  the  polls  were  opened  Tuesday  at  sunrise,  the 
inspectors  of  election  sorrowfully  shook  their  heads 
when  man  after  man  poked  an  anxious  black  face  into 
the  window,  protesting  he  “  done  lost  his  cyahd”  and 
wanted  to  vote  all  the  same.  The  books,  he  pleaded, 
proved  that  he  was  registered.  It  was  all  useless.  It 


214  TRIALS  OF  A  STAFF-OFFICER. 

might  be  allowed,  said  the  inspectors,  “  if  it  weren’t  for 
the  law.” 

Judge  Fournier  was  triumphantly  chosen  by  a  majority 
of  three  thousand  over  his  Hebrew  competitor,  and  at 
Major  Carter’s  dinner  at  Victor’s  next  Mardi  Gras  there 
was  a  shout  of  laughter  when  the  story  was  told  of 
u  How  we  elected  the  Mayor  of  Oglethorpe.” 


THE  END. 


Printed  by  J.  B.  Lippincott  Company,  Philadelphia. 


Molesworth. 


By  Mrs. 


Philippa. 

Illustrated.  i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

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Illustrated.  l2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

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thoroughly  healthy  in  tone,  and  is  a  charming  mingling  of  romance  and  realism." 
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J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA 


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dently  command  readers  even  while  inviting  them.” — Boston  Courier. 

“  Joseph  Hatton  has  written  many  successful  volumes  of  incident,  but  in  none 
of  them  has  he  given  us  a  more  stirring  romance  than  in  his  latest  novel,  ‘  When 
Greek  Meets  Greek.’  The  characters  are  drawn  with  a  skilful  hand,  and  the 
scenes  follow  each  other  in  rapid  succession,  each  teeming  with  interest  and  vigor.” 
— Boston  Advertiser. 


The  Banishment  of  Jessop  Blythe. 

In  Lippincotf s  Series  of  Select  Novels.  l2mo.  Cloth,  $1.00; 

paper,  50  cents. 

“  It  is  one  of  the  strongest  stories  of  the  year,  remarkably  graphic  in  its  de¬ 
scriptions  of  the  wild  and  wonderful  scenery  amidst  which  its  action  is  located, 
and  equally  remarkable  for  the  character  drawing  of  the  real  men  and  women  who 
figure  in  it.” — Boston  Home  Journal. 

“  The  author  has  depicted  clearly  a  true  socialistic  organization  on  a  small 
scale,  which  seems  as  though  it  might  have  been  founded  on  fact.  It  is  a  strong 
story,  extremely  well  told,  and  will  attract  attention  as  much  for  its  socialistic  ideas 
as  for  its  romantic  features.” — San  Francisco  Chronicle. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA 


By  Amy  E.  Blanchard 


An  Independent  Daughter. 

By  Amy  E.  Blanchard.  Illustrated  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.  $1.25. 


Betty  of  Wye. 

With  illustrations  by  Florence  P.  England.  i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 


Two  Girls. 

With  illustrations  by  Ida  Waugh.  i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

“  The  title  indicates  its  character — the  story  of  the  lives  of  two  girls.  They 
are  girls  of  entirely  different  temperament,  and  the  lessons  deducted  from  their 
respective  experiences,  and  the  manner  in  which  each  met  the  daily  troubles  and 
tribulations  of  early  life,  make  the  book  one  of  more  than  ordinary  importance  to 
the  young.” — St.  Paul  Dispatch. 


Girls  Together. 

With  illustrations  by  Ida  Waugh.  l2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

“  Here  is  a  story  so  realistic,  detailed,  and  full  of  youthful  sentiment  and  en¬ 
thusiasm  that  it  must  be  one  of  the  pieces  of  literary  work  which  seem  ‘  easy’  but 
are  in  reality  so  difficult  to  achieve.” — Portland  Press. 


Three  Pretty  Maids. 

With  illustrations  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.  i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

“  It  is  the  story  of  three  sisters,  their  school  life,  their  friends,  their  pleasures 
and  their  disappointments.” — Literary  Review,  Boston. 

Blanchard  Library  for  Girls. 

Two  Girls.  Girls  Together.  Betty  of  Wye. 
Three  Pretty  Maids.  An  Independent  Daughter. 

5  volumes  in  a  box.  Illustrated.  Cloth,  $6.25. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


By  S.  Baring-Gould. 


Richard  Cable,  the  Lightshipman. 

I2mo.  Cloth,  $1.00. 


The  Queen  of  Love. 

I2mo.  Paper,  50  cents ;  cloth,  $ 1. 00. 


The  Gaverocks. 

i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.00. 


Court  Royal :  A  Story  of  Cross-Currents. 

i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.00. 


Guavas  the  Tinner. 

l2mo.  Illustrated.  Paper,  50  cents ;  cloth,  $1.00. 

“  There  is  a  kind  of  flavor  about  this  book  which  alone  elevates  it  far  above 
the  ordinary  novel,  quite  apart  from  any  particular  merit  in  the  story.  The  curious 
aloofness  of  these  miners  from  the  generality  of  English  people,  and  the  con¬ 
vincing  manner  in  which  the  author  throws  the  reader  amongst  them  and  makes 
them  perfectly  natural,  perhaps  account  for  this  flavor  of  plausible  singularity; 
but  it  is  a  hard  task  to  define  it.  The  story  itself  has  a  grandeur  in  harmony  with 
the  wild  and  rugged  scenery  which  is  its  setting.  Isolt,  with  her  cold  and  passion¬ 
ate  nature,  is  a  most  haunting  figure,  and  her  mysterious  appearances  are  very 
dramatic.  The  hero  in  a  different  way  is  equally  fine, — distinguished  by  a  silence 
at  once  pathetic  and  magnificent.” — London  Atheneaum . 


].  B.  LIPP1NC0TT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA 


By  Louis  Becke. 


“  In  this  most  attractive  series  of  stories  of  a  quarter  of  the  planet’s  surface  are 
to  be  got  such  delights  as  go  with  life  even  before  literature.  They  fascinate  even 
when  they  excite,  and  soothe  and  narcotize  in  the  communication  of  their  subtle 
power.  The  author  is  himself  mentally  steeped  in  the  softened  colorings  of  the 
life  he  so  deliciously  depicts.  It  is  like  finding  a  coveted  rest  to  yield  the  force* 
of  the  imagination  to  the  rythmical  flow  of  his  skilfully  arranged  narratives.” — 
Boston  Courrier. 


The  Boat-Steerer,  and  Other  Stories. 

l2mo.  Cloth,  gilt  top,  $1.50. 


The  Mutineer ; 

A  Romance  of  Pitcairn  Island. 

By  LOUIS  BECKE  AND  WALTER  JEFFERY. 

l2mo.  Cloth,  $1.50. 

The  Ebbing  of  the  Tide. 

South  Sea  Stories.  Large  i2mo.  Cloth  extra,  $1.25. 


By  Reef  and  Palm. 

l6mo.  Illustrated.  Polished  buckram,  75  cents. 

“  ‘  By  Reef  and  Palm’  consists  of  a  number  of  brief  bits  of  romance  and 
strange  experience  among  the  islanders  of  the  tropics.  They  are  told  in  tragical 
vein,  and  appear  to  be  serious  pictures  of  real  life  throughout.” — Boston  Courier. 


His  Native  Wife. 

l6mo.  Illustrated.  Polished  buckram,  75  cents. 

“  *  His  Native  Wife’  is  a  masterly  sketch,  in  which  a  native  woman  gains  her 
revenge  upon  a  white  woman  for  attempting  to  steal  away  the  love  of  her  English 
husband.” — Boston  Courier . 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA 


By  Mrs. 


Lindon  W.  Bates. 


Bunch-Grass  Stories. 

i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

There  is  uncommon  freshness,  like  a  wind  from  the  wide  plains, 
in  these  tales  called  Bunch -  Grass  Stories.  They  are  the  work  of  a 
writer  who  observes  and  seizes  the  picturesque  traits  in  every  land 
where  fortune  happens  to  call  her,  and  her  travels  have  evidently 
been  many  and  far  away.  She  has,  likewise,  much  reading,  which 
she  puts  to  good  account  in  stories  that  impart  the  ring  of  truth  to 
classic  episodes. 


A  Blind  Lead. 

Thie  Story  of  a  Mine. 
l2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

“  ‘  A  Blind  Lead’  is  certainly  a  powerful  book.  We  took  it  up  indifferently 
enough,  but  we  had  read  a  few  pages  only  before  we  found  it  was  no  ordinary 
work  by  no  ordinary  writer.  A  good  deal  of  skill  is  shown  in  the  drawing  of  char¬ 
acter.  There  are  no  dull  pages,  and  the  interest  is  continuous  from  the  first  chapter 
to  the  last." — Boston  Advertiser, 

A  Nameless  Wrestler. 

l2mo.  Paper,  50  cents;  cloth,  $1.00. 

“  Her  story,  '  A  Blind  Lead/  was  very  promising,  and  it  is  followed  by  a* 
extremely  interesting  tale,  ‘A  Nameless  Wrestler.’  Here  is  something  outside  the 
hackneyed  course  of  fiction — fresh,  strong,  fascinating,  dramatic,  and  wholesome — 
scenes  laid  in  an  unfamiliar  country,  though  our  own,  and  characters  human  enough 
to  be  all  the  more  interesting  because  touched  with  strange  traits  by  virtue  of  en¬ 
vironment." — Detroit  Tribune. 


J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT,  COMPANY,  PHILADELPHIA. 


